


The Marks We Bear

by marysiak



Series: The Marks We Bear [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Bottom Harry, Closeted Character, Good Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Oral Sex, Order of the Phoenix AU, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-25
Updated: 2002-04-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 83,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysiak/pseuds/marysiak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is changed by events that occur at Malfoy Manor over the summer between his 4th and 5th years. When he gets back to school Harry finds him a very different kind of distraction than the old Draco Malfoy. Can Harry accept his feelings. Harry/Draco slash. See the series notes for more info on AU nature of this universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2002, there are R rated and NC-17 rated versions of it kicking about. This is the NC 17 version. The R rated version can be found on fictionalley. This was started as a nothingy bit of fun that got out of control very quickly. There are some very adult themes and trigger warnings for self harm and underage sex. It doesn't get too racy until about Chapter 9.

**Chapter 1**  
**Friday 12th Sept (1st week of school - 5th Year)**  
   
There were lots of things that made Harry Potter different from everyone else. Most of those things were pretty well known. From the physically obvious like his scar and his glasses and his messy black hair to the fact that his parents were both dead and he had been brought up by Muggles. To the fact that he was the only person who had ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse, the person who had almost defeated You-Know-Who.    
   
But there was one thing about Harry Potter that made him different that nobody else knew. Not even his closest friends, not even Dumbledore... in fact most of the time even Harry didn't know this one. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt after all.    
   
Today was one of those days when denial was clearly running dry.    
   
Cause he could cope with it when someone caught his eye on the street, when his mind ran away in the odd fantasy, even with the fact that he occasionally developed crushes on a classmate or two... but this was simply unbearable.    
   
It had to be some sort of new found masochistic streak, some form of self-flagellation for some consciously but not unconsciously forgotten misdemeanour.    
   
Of all the people his subconscious could possibly have chosen to latch on to... why did it have to be Draco Malfoy?    
   
It was days like this that his Gryffindorian recklessness was particularly unwelcome. It made him want to do very questionable things like leap over his desk, knocking aside his cauldron and Professor Snape, and throw Malfoy down on the floor and kiss him then just sit back and see how he reacted. Or maybe just jump out of the nearest window and thus avoid the hideous embarrassment of what might occur when he finally cracked from the pressure. That one was made tricky by the fact he was in a dungeon and there were no windows.    
   
He looked down at his simmering cauldron. Everyone else's potion was pink (except Neville's which was purple), his was vivid red with blue streaks. Perhaps he should just drink it and hope it put him out of his misery. Or at the very least deflated the hard on he had which seemed intent on doing press ups with the desk. Not for the first time he praised whatever Gods watched over hormone ridden school-boys that Hogwarts uniforms involved robes... nice, voluminous, loose, obscuring robes.    
   
How the hell Malfoy managed to give the impression of smooth, shapely shoulders and a really nice arse through them he had no idea. Why the hell Malfoy's arse had any effect on him at all he refused to think about.    
   
He looked down at his mis-coloured potion and then up at the impending Snape and sighed, he really missed the days when Potions class had inevitably meant pairing up. At least then when it went wrong the blame got shared around a bit. Cause the fact that he had no idea what he'd actually put in his cauldron or in what order was definitely at least 50% Malfoy's fault.    
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
So how had it started? Well part of it had happened on the train back to school when halfway down the aisle to the bathroom he'd come face to face with this drop dead gorgeous blonde boy who stood about an inch taller than him and had shoulders to die for. It wasn't till said hunk had opened his mouth to say,    
   
"Are you going to get out the way, Potter? Or will we be spending the rest of the trip standing here?"    
   
That he had realised the identity of the boy he was staring at. Draco Malfoy had put on quite a growth spurt over the summer, he must have gained an inch a month. And where had that tan come from? And those muscles? And had he ever even seen Malfoy in a t-shirt and jeans before?    
   
He had moved aside to let Malfoy squeeze past him and then stood there watching that arse walk away. He had definitely been in a severe case of shock. But he'd got over that by the time they got to school, reminding himself that he had a crush on Cho Chang and therefore did not need to worry about whether Malfoy was a complete shag or not because he was not gay... he was just going through a phase and besides it was Malfoy and Malfoy was most definitely the enemy.    
   
Unfortunately while Harry had been quite definite on that point, Malfoy's memory seemed a little shaky. He was withdrawn, quiet. He rarely passed comment on anyone let alone insulted them. He spent more time in the library alone than he did with Crabbe and Goyle. Harry was half convinced that this new hunky man of mystery persona was designed specifically to drive him out of his mind. It was so much easier to ignore the way Malfoy looked when there were evil and unpleasant jibes coming out of his mouth.    
   
The Slytherins seemed as unsure as Harry of what they were supposed to make of this new version of Draco Malfoy. They had prodded a bit at him, kind of like kids prod at roadkill to see if it's really dead or not. But Malfoy was most certainly still alive and could bite if necessary. So they let him be. Mostly they ignored him and the power gap was filled by Blaise Zabini, but he really didn't have Malfoy's flair when it came to giving the Gryffindor's a hard time.    
   
Ron, too, had given it a go at fighting with the new-but-not-necessarily-improved Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had ignored his initial attempts and when Ron pushed farther had rounded on him,    
"Do you really have nothing better to do with your life, Weasley? Am I so important to you that you can't take the hint? I have no interest in playing stupid games with you so either come to the point or go away."    
   
"Touchy, Malfoy. Can't take the heat any more, I guess."    
   
"Perhaps I'm just bored of playing with matches, Weasley."    
   
Ron took too long trying to figure out if that was an insult or not and Malfoy simply walked away.    
   
Malfoy walked away.    
   
From an excuse to trade insults with Ron.    
   
If Harry hadn't been standing right there watching the exchange he wouldn't have believed it. Even Hermione was stumped and she usually had an opinion on everything.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Draco's POV    
   
It's strange, walking through the school halls like a ghost or a condemned man. I don't have anything to say to anyone here and so I say nothing. I do my work. I eat my meals. I sleep. Around me they stare, they whisper or they ignore. They don't know what to say.    
   
It was interesting watching the entire power structure of the Slytherin House reform around my absence. For a week or so they were lost and confused and then they moved on. Me, I'm still lost and confused. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now that I've refused my previous role in this world. I feel kind of numb and aloof.    
   
I was so much a part of things in this school. Of the structure of things. In Slytherin House I ruled supreme in my year and over all those below. I even had limited power over those above me thanks to my family. And I revelled in that position. I manipulated, I ordered, I wallowed in my power. All so I could feel important. So I could grasp that one thing I'd never been able to find. That one thing I envied above all in others. I desperately wanted recognition, praise, power and I sought it the only way I knew, through the belittling of others.    
   
God, I sound like a therapist. I've been thinking about this way too much.    
   
But aside from my school work what else is there to do? I have no real friends, just people who were dragged along by me to my own ends or who followed in my shadow.    
   
I'm making myself sound like some ex-Machiavallian genius, I may be quieter but I obviously retain my penchant for the dramatic.    
   
The problem is that all this quiet, inner turmoil is really starting to get on my tits. I want to move on but I don't know where to go. I'm desperately looking forward to the start of the Quidditch season, but that's months away and we won't start practising in earnest for a few weeks yet.    
   
I want people to talk to, I want to have fun... I want to know why Harry Potter keeps looking at me like that.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Probably nothing would have come of any of it if fate hadn't taken a hand.    
   
It's funny how fate never seems willing to let things be.    
   
Harry could have quite happily ignored his lustful obsession until it went away or at the least he learnt a really good repression technique. But then how would he have found out the things he did and who knows what might happen if you remove a person from a story. With no Draco getting in the way... would things have worked out the way they did?    
   
Draco could have gone on in his new solitary role, getting far better grades than he ever had before and just getting used to being alone. Maybe in a year or so when people started to forget what an ass he'd been when he was younger he would have made a few friends. He probably would still have gotten himself disowned, but not quite as early as it actually happened.    
   
But what if's are infinite and unknown. This is the story of what is known, what did happen. And this is where it all started...    
   
On the quidditch field.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Thursday 18th September    
   
Draco got up early, before the rest of his house, and headed down to the Quidditch field. He hadn't had much chance to fly over the summer and he wanted to get back in shape before they started practising again. No need to make any more of a fool of himself on the pitch than he usually did.    
   
When he arrived he was irritated to note that someone else was already out there, swooping around the pitch and out as far as the Forbidden Forest and back. Looping and diving with an ease that could only be one person, Potter.    
   
" _Perfect_ ," he though sarcastically.    
   
But there was more than enough room in the air for the both of them and if he left Potter alone he supposed the other boy would do the same. They may have spent the last four years as rivals but, unlike Weasley, Potter wasn't inclined towards starting trouble or petty mudslinging. If he didn't start anything they could both practice in peace.    
   
He climbed onto his broom and kicked off, taking care to steer away from where Potter was flying.    
   
Harry swooped round in a graceful loop de loop, revelling more than practising. As he came back level facing the Quidditch pitch he saw another figure flying up, curving away from him. Harry gripped his broomstick tighter, the irritating thing about Draco Malfoy was that there was never any mistaking him. He wasn't the sort of person you accidentally walked past without recognising or had to squint at unsurely if seen at a distance. There wasn't a single boy at Hogwarts as blond as Malfoy, even his flying style was distinctive. A natural grace and ability hampered by over-thinking and a stiffness that only faded in the very few moments when he was truly caught up.    
   
Harry might not know Malfoy very well, but thanks to Quidditch he knew everything there was to know about how he flew.    
   
Without even realising he was doing it, Harry began mirroring Malfoy's flight path. Always keeping behind and to the right of him where he could watch him but could not be watched in return. Once he realised what he was doing it became a game, more interesting than randomly wandering, trying to anticipate Malfoy's moves, holding their distance precisely. Then as they reached the pinnacle of a high swoop Malfoy turned into a sharp downward dive, hurtling towards the grass only a few degrees from vertical. Harry followed about 20 feet behind, trying to catch up so that they would pull up together at the same altitude. If Malfoy pulled up lower he might see Harry following him. But Malfoy left it a little too late, or else was going faster than he realised and as he pulled up the end of his broom caught the ground and the resulting jerk threw him off backwards. Harry was so caught up in watching Malfoy somersault back through the air that he almost did exactly the same and only his quick reactions and his slightly less break-neck speed allowed him to angle to the side and slow so that he tumbled harmlessly onto the grass in a cushioning roll. Unlike Malfoy who landed on his back and skidded across the grass for a few feet.    
   
Without thinking Harry scrambled up and ran over to where Malfoy lay. "Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Don't move!" He began running his hands over Malfoy's limbs looking for broken bones. "Does your neck hurt?"    
   
"Of course my neck hurts, everything hurts!" snapped Malfoy, embarrassed at making such an idiot of himself in front of Potter.    
   
This snapped Harry back into awareness of what he was doing and he jumped back as if he had burn his fingers.    
   
"Right, yeah. Remind me to stand back and laugh next time."    
   
He started to back away, his face burning at the realisation that he had been touching Malfoy. Damned first aid training. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, after what had happened to Diggory and his inability to save him, learning how to save people had made him feel like he was doing something. And it had got him out of Privet Drive for a few hours a week.    
   
Malfoy's voice broke his train of thought.    
   
"Wait!" He was sitting up, wincing. "Wait, I'm.... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."    
   
Harry stopped backing away and stared at Malfoy in amazement.    
   
"You're ... what did you say?" he took a step back towards him.    
   
"I'm sorry. I was just... embarrassed. I guess I was flying faster than I realised, I'm a bit rusty." Draco gave up on trying to sit up, it hurt too much. His entire body felt like one big bruise.    
   
It took Harry a moment to get over the shock of Draco Malfoy apologising. He walked back over to where the other boy lay on the grass.    
   
"D'you... need a hand?"    
   
"Actually I thought I might lie here until the world stops spinning."    
   
This kicked Harry's first aid training back into gear and he dropped back down next to Malfoy holding up his hand, "How many fingers?" After all a concussion might explain the apology.    
   
"Three. I'm fine, really. Just a bit dizzy and a lot bruised."    
   
"Still, you should let Madame Pomfrey check you out, just in case. That was a pretty impressive landing."    
   
"Don't rub it in," Malfoy groaned.    
   
"Sorry. Um... while you're... not going anywhere and everything... could I ask you something?"    
   
"I suppose. Can't promise you an answer though."    
   
"I just wondered... why are you being nice to me?"    
   
"I am not being nice to you!" protested Draco. "I'm just... not being nasty to you."    
   
"Well, okay. So why aren't you? Being nasty I mean?" asked Harry nervously. "I mean not that it isn't great and everything but it's... really weird."    
   
Draco gave an odd smile. "Nobody likes change."    
   
"I didn't say I didn't like it... I mean... I was just wondering is all."    
   
"Let's just say I had an eye-opening experience this summer," he answered finally in a voice that implied further questions were not welcome. "So is that hand still on offer?"    
   
"What? Oh, right". Harry stood up and reached out his hand to help Malfoy up.    
   
"Thanks, Potter." Malfoy stood there awkwardly for a moment then turned, retrieved his broomstick and limped back towards the castle.    
   
Potter watched him go for a moment then picked up his own broom and ran after him. "Wait up! I'll walk you back."    
   
Malfoy paused and started to look back but then groaned and dropped his broom again, clutching his hand to his neck. "Ow!"    
   
Harry picked up Malfoy's broom and tucked it under his arm with his own. "Told you to go see Madame Pomfrey," he said smugly. "You've probably got whiplash."    
   
Malfoy gave him a funny look. "I've got what?"    
   
"Your neck," explained Harry. "It's when your neck gets jerked too fast and it damages your spine and everything. I did this Muggle first aid course over the summer and I've been reading up on medical magic, I'm studying it this year. Here, let me see."    
   
Harry put both the brooms back down and moved behind Malfoy, bringing his hands up to his neck. He swallowed nervously as he allowed his hands to settle on either side of Malfoy's neck. "Try and hold your head still and straight," he said. Then he pulled his wand out of his pocket and, trying to focus on his task, incanted, "Reficio Musculis Vertebrata." As heat spread through Malfoy's neck he could feel the tight muscles under his hand relaxing.    
   
Draco actually moaned. "Gods, you don't realise how much something hurts till it stops. Guess you've got the touch, Potter."    
   
Harry tucked his wand back into his pocket and ran his hands over Malfoy's neck and shoulders, inclining his head forward and back. "It doesn't hurt when I do that?"    
   
"Nope, feels great. Don't suppose you could do my arse while you're at it?"    
   
"What?" Harry jumped back, his eyes automatically going to Malfoy's backside.    
   
"Now that my neck doesn't hurt any more I'm becoming increasingly aware of what actually hit the ground first." Draco reached behind himself and rubbed carefully at his tail bone.    
   
Harry just stood there and gaped at the way what Malfoy was doing pulled his robes closer to his body. He was trying very hard not to think about touching Malfoy's arse.    
   
"I'm sure you'll be fine, you're just bruised."    
   
"But it hurts," Draco whined unconvincingly.    
   
Harry was glad Malfoy couldn't see the brilliant red colour he was sure his face had gone. "Don't be such a baby. Consider it a punishment for past misdeeds."    
   
Now Malfoy did turn round. "Nursing a grudge, Potter?"    
   
Harry considered his answer. Something short and rude came to mind but he settled for civility, "Not really, after all we always won in the end."    
   
Malfoy didn't look pleased with that. "I suppose you did," he said shortly. Then he looked at him with a piercing gaze, "My turn to ask a question."    
   
"Um, okay."    
   
"Why are you being so nice to me?"    
   
"Oh, um...." Harry floundered.    
   
"After all I've done to you and your friends... the detentions, the insults, that thing with the hippogryff... I wouldn't be so quick to forget." His expression was closed, giving nothing away.    
   
"I haven't forgotten," said Harry. "But like I said, we always won in the end. Buckbeak got away and we've gotten you as many detentions as you've gotten us."    
   
"I doubt Weasley and Granger would see it that way."    
   
"Probably not, but they have more reason to hate you than I do."    
   
"Oh?"    
   
"Hermione's always been just a mudblood to you and your entire family seems to have some sort of personal feud going on with the Weasley's... " Harry trailed off, all the insults and fights coming back to mind, the reality of which side Malfoy had chosen to be on. He gave Malfoy a cold glare. "You know digging up your past actions really isn't going to help you much in your quest to become a new person. I've suddenly gone off the idea of being anywhere near you."    
   
Harry turned and began to walk back to the castle, berating himself silently for being nice to Malfoy.    
   
Behind him Malfoy started to follow, calling, "Potter, wait."    
   
"Get stuffed, Malfoy," he shot over his shoulder. "You'll need to do a lot more than stop insulting me for a couple of weeks and fall off your broom to get me to want to hang out with you."    
Malfoy drew alongside him. "I thought you said you weren't nursing a grudge?"    
   
"That was before I remembered why I ought to be."    
   
"And why's that?"    
   
Harry stopped again and faced off with him. "Because you're a small-minded, bullying, prejudiced, cowardly little git and your father is on first-name terms with the man who killed my parents!" he shouted. "You probably got that tan sunbathing in some Death-Eater resort where the evenings entertainment is torturing Muggles and plotting to take over the world! In fact I wouldn't be surprised if this whole being nice thing isn't some secret plan to kill me so that Lord Voldemort will give you a nice seat next to your Father at his evil wizards convention."    
   
Malfoy had paled a little at this outburst but when Harry stopped shouting all he said was, "I see." He held something out to him and after a moment Harry realised it was his broom. "You forgot this."    
   
Harry took it from him, feeling somewhat deflated now that he had done all that yelling.    
   
"Thanks for fixing my neck."    
   
Malfoy walked off and Harry stood and watched him disappear back into the castle.    
   
He hadn't had breakfast yet and he already felt like he needed to go back to bed.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
"I just wonder what he meant about having an eye opening experience," said Harry.    
   
"Who cares," answered Ron. "He's an evil prat. He was a evil prat before summer and he's still an evil prat. He's just an evil prat with a lot less to say."    
   
"It is strange though," said Hermione. "I mean he is very different. Maybe what happened last year had more of an effect on him than he let on. I mean he was always quick with the big talk about hating muggles and everything but talk's just talk. Maybe now it's all really happening he's realised it isn't so great."    
   
"Hermione," said Ron, disgusted at all this discussion of Malfoy. "Don't you remember what he said last year after Diggory died? Didn't seem very upset about it then, did he? Seemed pretty sure you and me were next on the list!"    
   
"I remember," said Hermione. "Of course I remember. But like I said, it's just words. If you can't get past stuff like that you end up like Snape."    
   
Ron shuddered at that thought.    
   
"Snape's one of the good guys though. I just wish I knew if Malfoy'd really changed for the better or if he's just... changed," mused Harry.    
   
"Well, you said he's taking Muggle Studies this year, Ron. Rather odd for someone who's supposed to hate them," noted Hermione.    
   
"Know your enemy," retorted Ron. "That's got to be somewhere in the Dark Wizards Handbook."    
   
"And he's taking quite a few classes I'm in, he seems really different. No snide insults, no mucking about... "    
   
"I've said it once but I obviously need to say it again," said Ron in exasperation. "Who cares! He's leaving us alone, great. Let's leave him alone too. Even if he wasn't Malfoy he's still a Slytherin."    
   
"I know," said Harry, letting the topic drop but not ceasing to watch Malfoy out of the corner of his eye.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
After breakfast Harry headed up for their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, dragging behind Ron and Hermione and completely failing to notice the way their hands kept brushing against one another accidentally.    
   
This would be their 4th DADA class with this years new teacher, a very strict man by the name of Professor Hartlebury. Which wasn't good cause they had a joint class with the Slytherins and that always meant trouble. On the other hand it also meant Malfoy. Not that that wasn't just another kind of trouble, it crossed his mind that he might get better grades if he focused more on the subject of the class than who he fancied in it. On the other hand his academic life was even more screwed up than his love life. He was stuck in 2 completely useless classes... Care of Magical Creatures was often fun but rarely educational and Divination was without a doubt the biggest pile of crap ever... and there was no point in dropping them now cause he would be too far behind to take up new subjects for his OWLs. Hermione was taking 12 subjects and he was only taking 9, two of which were a complete waste of time. At least he'd added Medical Magic and Spell Creation to his timetable this year which were bound to come in useful given his life so far. They were subjects only available at 5th year and up. He wondered what subjects Malfoy was taking. He knew he was in Muggle Studies with Ron and some of Hermione's classes but he wasn't sure which ones.    
   
He was last into the classroom and found he had a choice between sitting right in the front or sitting further back next to Malfoy but just in front of Ron and Hermione. Gritting his teeth he took the latter choice, he hated sitting in the front row.    
   
He sat down without even acknowledging Malfoy's presence and gave Ron and Hermione a pained expression.    
   
"Still nursing that grudge, Potter?" Malfoy muttered under his breath.    
   
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed back.    
   
Professor Hartlebury set them to practising advanced hex deflection techniques, supposedly able to deflect spells from wizards more powerful than yourself. It involved a lot of complicated wand waving. He prowled up and down the class studying their technique, as he reached Malfoy and Harry he watched for a few moments.    
   
"Very impressive, Mr Malfoy. Very impressive indeed. Perhaps you could give Mr Potter a few tips, he seems to be auditioning as a majorette."    
   
The Slytherin's sniggered loudly, but Malfoy just said, "Yes, sir."    
   
As the Professor continued back to correct Ron's exuberant gesturing Malfoy turned obediently to Harry.    
   
"You're using your elbow too much, it's all in the wrist, Potter."    
   
"I don't need your help, Malfoy."    
   
"If you want to survive being hexed you do."    
   
"Why, are you *planning* to hex me?" Harry flicked a little too viciously and his grip on his wand slipped, it flew through the air in a slow arc and hit the back of Millicent Bulstrode's head.    
   
This time the entire class burst into laughter. Millicent looked daggers at him and raised her foot to stomp on his wand, but before she could bring it down Malfoy muttered, "Accio wand." Harry's wand flew through the air and Malfoy caught it. "Maybe next time you should listen to me."    
   
Harry snatched his wand back out of Malfoy's hand, flushing slightly as their fingertips brushed past one another. "Maybe if you would shut up I could concentrate on what I was doing."    
   
"I thought you were bigger than that, Potter. I guess I overestimated you."    
   
"I'm just remembering which side I'm on. You know, the opposite one from you."    
   
"How terribly black and white of you."    
   
"I don't remember *you* ever leaving much room for shades of grey."    
   
"I am grey," Draco muttered, half to himself. "I stand between the darkness and the light."    
   
"You're nuts is what you are," commented Ron from behind them.    
   
"Stay out of this, Weasley," Draco snapped.    
   
"That is enough!" ordered Professor Hartlebury. "Since you seem to have plenty of time to talk I presume you have mastered the technique we are working on. Malfoy, Potter, to the front and give us a demonstration."    
   
Harry gave Malfoy a look of utter detestation and hoped like hell Professor Hartlebury would let Harry do the hexing as they trooped to the front of the class.    
   
"Mr Malfoy if you will attempt to hex Mr Potter, nothing too painful please. Mr Potter, let's see if your deflection technique has improved any in the past few minutes."    
   
Harry planted himself in what he hoped was a confident and intimidating stance and glared at Malfoy from behind his outstretched wand. What the hell had he been thinking, Malfoy was absolutely not in the slightest bit cute.    
   
In front of him Malfoy adopted a lazy, insolent position that exuded about twenty times more confidence than Harry could summon up. "Ready for me, Potter?"    
   
Oh, Merlin. Definitely not cute but so incredibly fucking sexy. How were you supposed to concentrate when someone was looking at you like that?

"Always," Harry answered, his mouth dry.    
   
In her seat next to Ron, Hermione was giving them both a very suspicious look.    
   
Then Malfoy let loose with a well aimed disorientation hex.    
   
Harry quickly tried to perform the complex wand wiggle Professor Hartlebury had shown them at the start of the class but his concentration was completely shot and Malfoy's hex went right past his gesticulations and hit him square between the eyes. He staggered back, then forward, then tripped over his own feet and suffered the further indignation of falling flat on his face in front of the entire class.    
   
Once more the Slytherins burst into gales of laughter, but this time the Gryffindors didn't join in. Though a few of them were stifling minor giggles.    
   
Harry opened his eyes but couldn't seem to focus on anything, something that looked vaguely like a hand floated towards him.    
   
"Need a hand, Potter?"    
   
Harry gritted his teeth and took Malfoy's hand, allowing him to pull him back to his feet. Unfortunately he immediately started to fall over again and ended up clinging to Malfoy as if his life depended on him as the classroom spun around him.    
   
"Still don't need my help?" Malfoy asked dryly in too low a tone for anyone else to hear.    
   
"Quit gloating and help me back to my seat," Harry growled, thankful that the disorientation was making him too queasy to enjoy the close contact.    
   
"Well I think that about covers Mr Potter's hex deflecting skills," remarked Professor Hartlebury. "Does anyone else think they can do a better job?"    
   
Harry sulked dizzily in his chair as the rest of the class trooped up in pairs to try. In the seat next to him Malfoy was smirking as if it was the most fun he'd had in months. Although Harry wasn't to know, it was in fact the most fun Draco Malfoy had had in months.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
That night Draco replayed the day in his head over and over, hoping that maybe this once he would be distracted enough not to dream about it again. Dreading the moment when he finally fell asleep. Strangely enough he couldn't quite figure out what had been best about today... getting one over on Potter in Defence Against the Dark Arts or the simple pleasure of physical contact with another person. Someone who didn't want anything from him, someone whose touch didn't make his skin crawl. Even with the later arguments, Harry's freely offered hand and gentle touch on his neck remained somehow untainted and comforting.    
   
But eventually he fell asleep...    
   
It was starting again. Just like every night. He felt it coming.    
   
The air grew cold around him, started to darken. Then he heard her voice.    
   
"Please, just let me go. I didn't do anything. Please."    
   
She was behind him and he refused to turn around and look at her. But in front of him his father stepped out of the shadows.    
   
"What are you waiting for, Draco, she's just a Muggle? Time to practise what I've been teaching you."    
   
Draco tried to refuse but he couldn't seem to make any noise.    
   
Then the air grew colder and darker still and out of the shadows behind his father stepped Lord Voldemort. Draco tried to look away but he couldn't seem to move at all as he watched those white spidery hands stroke his fathers arms, the monstrous face whispering words he couldn't hear into his fathers ear. He tried to scream at them to stop it as his father leant back into the embrace. His mouth was open and he was yelling as loud as he could, he could feel the air coming from his lungs, but no sound passed his lips.    
   
Then without his moving the girl was in front of him and his father behind. Her face was completely vivid in his minds eye despite the fact he had known her only a couple of hours. She was crying and looking up at him from where she was shackled on the floor. Just as she had been when he had first seen her. Naked, covered in bruises and blood.    
   
Inside his head he was repeating over and over, _"Wake up, wake up, wake up..."_  
   
"Don't go straight to the end," hissed Voldemort. "Try out the Imperius curse first, it's bound to come in useful in the future."    
   
Against his will he felt his wand arm raise.    
   
" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."_  
   
"Imperio," he heard himself say. His voice was loud and harsh and echoed in his head.    
   
Behind him he could hear his father moaning and panting, his subconscious mixing events together.    
   
In front of him the girl was dancing, tears still running down her face. He tried to close his eyes so he couldn't see her but it didn't seem to make any difference.    
   
He was lifting his wand again.    
   
_"No, no, no, no, no..."_  
   
"Crucio." His voice crashed through his head.    
   
The girl was screaming now, her body twisting itself unnaturally. Bones seemed to be shattering under her skin.    
   
Yet despite the noise he could still hear them behind him. The slap of flesh on flesh, harsh groans...    
   
His wand arm was raising itself again.    
   
_"No..."_  
   
"Yes!" shouted his father.    
   
He opened his mouth to say the words ...    
   
He woke up to the sound of screams, his own. His throat in agony but his face, as usual, dry.    
   
He pulled himself into a ball, shaking, twisting his fingers into his arms where they'd leave bruises by morning. If he could just cry, if he could just cry the nightmares might go away and he could sleep. The books he read said it wasn't healthy not to cry but he couldn't do it, he didn't know how to start any more.    
   
He glanced around the dark enclosure of his curtained bed, he had learned by now to put silencing charms on the curtains before he went to sleep. He felt completely alone. The previous day as far away as a previous life and the summer as sharp and vivid in his mind as yesterday should have been.    
   
It was a long time before he fell asleep again.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Harry woke with a start in a tangle of sweaty, sticky blankets trying to grasp back at the fading images of the dream he'd been having. It wasn't often he woke in the night from something other than a nightmare and he was loathe to lose what few pleasant dreams he had.    
   
Moments into his mental replay of soft skin on skin his conscious caught up with his subconscious and reminded him he wasn't supposed to be thinking about that.    
 _"Oh, Merlin. Not again."_  
   
It had been even worse tonight, with the sensory memories of Malfoy's cool hand and the soft skin of his neck and shoulders still vibrant in Harry's mind.    
   
He leapt out of bed and headed for the bathroom to clean himself up repeating his mantra.    
   
_"It's just a phase, it's just a phase, it's just a fucking insane phase. I'm traumatised, it's some weird left over psychosis from facing down Voldemort. *IT* *WILL* *PASS* *DAMN IT* Cho Chang, Cho Chang, Cho Chang, Cho Chang naked, Cho Chang naked on a broomstick... oh, Draco Malfoy naked on a broomstick... *FUCK!*"_  
 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Friday Sept 19th**    
   
The next morning after breakfast they all had a free period and Hermione grabbed him before he could sit down in the common room. Ron was nowhere to be seen.    
   
"I want to talk to you a minute, Harry."    
   
"Um... okay, I guess. What's up?"    
   
Hermione led him upstairs to her dormitory, which was empty.    
   
Confused but curious, Harry sat down on a chair. "Is it just me or do I feel a lecture coming on? I don't remember doing anything."    
   
"I'm not mad at you, Harry. I just wanted to ask you about something."    
   
"Something that couldn't be asked about in front of Ron?"    
   
"Yes." Hermione looked nervous.    
   
"Well, fire away I guess."    
   
Hermione bit her lip. "I don't really know how to put this so I'm just going to ask you straight out. Just, please, tell me the truth. You don't have to be afraid to, I won't think any less of you, I swear. Whatever you say, you're my friend and you'll always be my friend. And if I'm wrong that's okay too and I don't want you to take offence, please..."    
   
"Hermione!" She stopped with a slight jump. "Just ask me will you, I have no idea what you're on about."    
   
"Right... right." She seemed to steel herself, then she looked him straight in the eye and said, "Harry, are you gay?"    
   
"What!" He leapt out of the chair, nervously stepping behind it and looking at her over the back. "Of course not! Why would you think that? I'm not gay!" But he was having trouble looking her in the eye.    
   
"Harry, please. You don't have to be afraid to say you are. There's nothing wrong with being gay."    
   
"I'm *not* gay!"    
   
"But..."    
   
"Why would you think I'm gay? I'm not gay, I'm not even a tiny bit gay. I fancy Cho Chang, you know I do! Shit, you haven't told Ron about this have you?"    
   
"Harry, calm down. Don't you think you're over-reacting a bit?"    
   
"Oh and what? That means I'm gay does it? I'm gay cause I said I wasn't! That's just great. I suppose if I'd said nothing that would have meant I was gay too!"    
   
"Harry..."    
   
"This is ridiculous, Hermione. This is a completely stupid conversation. I'm going back downstairs."    
   
And with that Harry turned and fled the room, but instead of stopping in the common room he headed on till he was outside and away from the school. Walking swiftly across the cold, dewy lawns towards the lake his head was buzzing.    
   
_"Where the hell had that come from? What had Hermione seen, what had he done that had made her ask him that? Did he sound gay or something, had she seen him looking at a guy, at Malfoy? Fuck, had anyone else picked up on it? What if everyone was thinking it and she was the only person who had the guts to say anything? What if every time he looked at Malfoy they could all see exactly what he was thinking written right across his face? What if Malfoy could see it? They were probably all laughing about it. Potter the fag. Potter fancies Malfoy. Was that why Malfoy was acting weird? But no, Malfoy had been acting weird from day one of this year. He couldn't have picked up on it that fast. And if the Slytherins knew they'd never have kept quiet about it."_  
   
But still, Harry couldn't face everyone yet so he spent his free period out by the lake till it was time for Divination. A thankfully Hermione free class.    
   
When he got there Ron was waiting for him. "What happened to you?"    
   
"Went for a walk."    
   
"Hermione seemed upset about something, did you two have a fight?"    
   
"No, I've no idea what she's upset about. I just wanted some fresh air."    
   
Ron didn't look convinced but it was time for class to start.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
At lunch Hermione was still looking at him a bit funny but she didn't mention their earlier conversation and Harry purposefully sat them facing away from the Slytherin table so that he could enjoy his lunch without any unpleasant distractions. However the upcoming Potions class was making him jittery, three hours of Snape and Malfoy... it was too much to hope that nothing bad would happen.    
   
He hadn't even sat down before things started to take another turn for the worse. Entering the classroom a little late, as usual, the three of them found little choice in where to sit. There were two seats together at the front and one at the back where the Slytherins, still a little uneasy at his personality change, had left a free chair between the rest of them and Malfoy just in case he should suddenly crack and try to take whoever was next to him along for the ride.    
   
Harry tried his best puppy dog eyes on Hermione but she was obviously still a little miffed about him running out on their discussion this morning cause she frowned at him then grabbed Ron's arm and steered them into the two seats at the front.    
   
Harry rolled his eyes and headed for the back of the class where Malfoy appeared to be utterly absorbed in his notes and ignored him completely. " _Which is just fine by me,"_ thought Harry as he watched Malfoy out of the corner of his eye.    
   
The class actually went comparatively normally after that, which is to say it was an unmitigated disaster as usual. Neville spilled half the things he touched, Snape took points off Gryffindor for the slightest error and Harry couldn't seem to read his own handwriting owing to the fact that sitting this close to Malfoy made his hands shaky and sweaty. As a result, half way through mixing his potion, Harry simply gave up and buried his head in his hands with a muttered, "Life really sucks."    
   
A dry voice from beside him spoke quietly, "And Potions doubly so?"    
   
Harry looked up from the desk. "What?"    
   
"Having an emotional crisis, Potter? Or are you actually as bad at Potions as Professor Snape would have us believe?" Although the words might have fitted Malfoy's old personality, the tone and expression on his face didn't. He looked vaguely concerned, if slightly amused.    
   
Not feeling up to an argument, Harry answered instead of telling him to get stuffed. "Can't read my own handwriting." He gestured at his smeared parchment. "Plus Hermione usually helps out a bit." He saw Malfoy glance down to the front of the class where Hermione was whispering something to Ron.    
   
"Where have you got to?" he asked.    
   
"Um..." Harry fished his memory and squinted at his notes. "I added the squid ink and the butterfly wings and let it simmer but I can't tell if it's meant to be for 5 minutes or 15 and I don't know whether I'm supposed to slice or dice... or possibly slit... the berry things."    
   
"It's 5 minutes... and the juniper berries are meant to be squashed."    
   
Harry looked at his notes again. "I must have misheard that bit."    
   
"Are you sure that disorientation hex has worn off completely?" Malfoy asked wryly.    
   
"Ha, ha." Harry hurried to squash his juniper berries before the rest of his potion over simmered.    
   
Sometime later as Snape walked back to his desk after checking the quality of the prepared potions, Harry glanced over at Malfoy again. He waited till Malfoy glanced his way then mouthed, "Thanks."    
   
Malfoy simply nodded as he gathered up his notes.    
   
As Harry joined his friends in the corridor he found himself desperate to discuss what had just happened with them. But there was just no way he was going to say anything to Hermione about Malfoy after this morning and talking to Ron about him was kind of like discussing magic with the Dursley's. Not very productive.    
   
So instead he stewed in his own thoughts. Maybe Malfoy was just trying to balance out the score after Harry had fixed his neck. He'd tried to help him in class yesterday as well. Maybe now that he'd actually done so he'd consider the debt paid and stop talking to him again.    
   
But what if that wasn't it. What if his fixing Malfoy's neck had started some sort of chain reaction? What if Malfoy wanted them to be friends? The problem with that was while Harry knew that he shouldn't want them to be friends he inexplicably found himself very happy at the thought. Mind you the image his brain conjured up of him and Malfoy being friends seemed to involve an awful lot of wandering around holding hands and gazing deeply into each others eyes. He groaned aloud and slapped himself across the face a couple of times.    
   
"Harry, are you feeling all right?" asked Hermione.    
   
Startled, having completely forgotten he was walking with Hermione and Ron, Harry looked round at them. "Oh, yeah. Just... how do you know if you're losing your mind?"    
   
"That depends," answered Ron. "Do you see little pixies that tell you to kill your friends?"    
   
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother asking you anything."    
   
"Ignore him." Hermione flashed Ron a look. "What's bothering you?"    
   
Hermione had her curious face on again and Harry had a flash of panic. "Um, nothing. Really. Just tired, feeling a bit off colour today. That's all."    
   
"Having to sit next to Malfoy for three hours would make me feel off colour too," said Ron. "We really have to start getting to class earlier."    
   
The rest of the evening, and indeed that weekend, passed quite peacefully. No classes, no Malfoy, and Hermione kept her awkward questions to herself. For a few days Harry could almost imagine everything was back to normal.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco mostly spent his weekend in the Library. He liked it in the Library... people kept to themselves in the Library and left him room to think. The Slytherin common room was too draining and annoying, in fact he was really growing to despise it. All that tacky plotting and sniping over nothing. Plus it was really damp and cold down there unless you were right on top of the fire.    
   
But the state of the Slytherin common room was not foremost in his mind. Harry Potter was foremost in his mind. He had convinced Voldemort that he could be useful at school, getting close to Potter and listening out for any news as to what Dumbledore was planning. Voldemort knew Dumbledore wouldn't sit idle no matter what the Ministry for Magic ordered. He figured he had a few weeks before they would expect him to produce anything useful but in the meantime he had to make it look like he was doing the job. The gossip of the other Slytherins with Death-Eaters in the family would make sure most of what he did got back to Voldemort eventually.    
   
There was only one problem.    
   
Even though Draco knew he was supposed to be cozying up to Potter he suddenly found that he didn't just want to fake it, he really did want to get to know Potter better. And for some reason that made him intensely uncomfortable about the whole thing.    
   
Pretending to be someone's friend was something Draco had a great deal of experience in, he couldn't think of a single "friend" he'd had that didn't irritate the hell out of him. He didn't make friends because he liked people... or at least he never had in the past. He'd made friends as his father had instructed him or as had suited him in his social climbing. The thought of hanging around with someone because he actually wanted to was slightly intimidating. He felt as if it might give that other person too much power over him.    
   
What if he got too used to having Potter around? What if he had to turn him over to Voldemort... not that he wanted to, he didn't want to do anything that involved Voldemort, but what if there was no choice, what if it was him or Potter? Would he still be able to do it if he was Potter's friend? Potter's other friends were forever putting themselves in danger over him. Mind you he always saved them, maybe he would save Draco too. He felt a painful, hopeful ache inside of him. He could imagine Potter doing that, saving him. Even after everything he'd said, everything he'd done to put them down and raise himself up. It was just the sort of thing Harry would do.    
   
Harry... he'd never thought of him as Harry before.    
   
He'd hated him because his father had hated him... because everybody always talked about him... because his father always treated his every gain as proof of Draco's weakness... because he'd looked down on him from almost the first moment they met. Refusing the hand he'd offered him. He'd come to him as an equal and Harry had looked at him like he was scum.    
   
Of course that was when he still believed every word his father said, looked up to his father, tried desperately to be everything his father wanted him to be. Now he saw his father in an entirely new light... his father was scum... deluded, power-mad and twisted and the words he'd said to Harry that day in Madame Malkin's and later on the Hogwarts Express had been his fathers words. Harry had been right to look at him in disgust.    
   
But now... Harry had said, that day on the Quidditch field, that it would take more than a few insult free weeks and a broom accident to change anything. He wondered what it would take. Somehow he felt that Harry wanted this too, that he only fell back into old dislikes when reminded. Like his instincts were against his learned behaviours. Draco prided himself on being an excellent judge of behaviour and body language and somehow he was sure that Harry wanted them to be friends as much as he suddenly found he did.    
   
So he was just going to have to get over this silly discomfort over the idea of actually liking someone and figure out how to go about getting them to like him back.    
   
Mind you the really odd thing was that the image his brain was conjuring up of him and Harry being friends seemed to involve an awful lot of wandering around holding hands and gazing deeply into each others eyes.    
   
He really was going to have to worry about that sometime when he wasn't worrying about everything else.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Tuesday 23rd Sept**    
   
Tuesday was what Harry referred to as his lazy day, despite Hermione's nagging that free periods were for studying in not sleeping through. Both he and Ron had all morning free and as a result they could sleep till lunch while Hermione was in double Ancient Runes and Elemental Magical Theory. She invariably tried to wake them up for breakfast but was never successful. Harry and Ron had a lot of free time compared to Hermione who was taking 12 OWLs this year.    
   
They met her at lunch looking very well rested while she looked flustered and tired. They had a bet on as to whether she would have a nervous breakdown before or after the Christmas holidays, Ron was betting on before but Harry figured she'd hold it together till just before exam time... then she'd crack and transfigure all her teachers into field mice before running off to join a commune. It wasn't just that she was taking 12 OWLs, it was that she was taking 12 pretty difficult OWLs and seemed determined to get 250% in all of them.    
   
Harry was looking forward to simply passing his nine subjects.    
   
As Hermione ate her lunch distractedly while reading a text book and Ron chatted to Ginny about her day Harry allowed his eyes to wander to the Slytherin table and Draco Malfoy. Someone he had avoided looking at since last Friday. However with Defence Against the Dark Arts coming up again this afternoon his mind was turning again to the events of last week.    
   
Malfoy was sitting alone as usual, not in a dejected way though. When he sat alone he seemed to give off this vibe that said, 'I choose to sit alone because I'm too good to sit with any of you plebs.' He ate with a strange mixture of efficiency and enjoyment, as if he really loved to eat but he wouldn't lower himself to show it too much. He was reading a text book too, but unlike Hermione he seemed to be able to do it without missing his mouth. Hermione kept jabbing herself in the cheek with her fork.    
   
Harry envied his poise, just looking at Draco Malfoy made him feel like a scruffy, grubby, insecure child. It was both irritating and entrancing. Oh Merlin... he'd just called Malfoy entrancing. Well, at least it had been paired with irritating. One step forward and one step back. And now we're dancing... oh dear. Dancing with Malfoy... slow dancing with Malfoy. Harry thumped his head against the table, eliciting concerned looks from Ron and Ginny. If this was what happened to his brain when he looked at Malfoy he was going to have to stop doing it again. Maybe he could eat with his glasses off, he didn't need them just to eat... unless he wanted to know what he was eating *before* he put it in his mouth that was.    
   
Transfiguration and Medical Magic seemed to flash past and it was time for Defence Against Dark Arts before he knew it. Ron met him outside his Medical Magic class and walked him up, as they entered they were both amazed to see Hermione sitting next to Draco Malfoy and talking animatedly.    
   
Harry headed over to join them, they were holding a seat on either side of them and when he got there Malfoy moved down leaving the seats either side of Hermione free.    
   
"Potter," he acknowledged.    
   
"Hi, Harry," said Hermione. "You better sit on this side, I don't think putting Ron next to Malfoy would be wise." Harry sat down between Hermione and Malfoy with a bemused expression on his face. "Where is Ron anyway?" she asked.    
   
Harry looked around. "He was right..." He spotted Ron still standing in the doorway looking extremely annoyed. "Hey, Ron. Come and sit down."    
   
Ron bore down on them a little like a charging red-haired rhinoceros. He gave Malfoy a thoroughly hateful look and then hissed at Hermione, "What the hell are you doing talking to him?"    
  
Hermione was unswayed by his tone. "We just came from History of Magic. He walked me down, I asked him to help me save a couple of seats," she answered primly.    
   
As they continued bickering Harry looked over at Malfoy to see what his reaction was to this. He was staring at the blackboard with a bored expression, twirling his pencil between his fingers. It suddenly hit Harry that this was an act. He stared harder at the boy next to him trying to see through the front and figure out what he was really thinking, but before he got anywhere Malfoy sensed his intense stare and turned around.    
   
"What?"    
   
"Um... nothing. I just..." Harry fished for a conversation topic. "I didn't know you took History with Hermione."    
   
Malfoy shrugged elegantly. "We have Arithmancy and Astronomy together too."    
   
"Oh... um... how many subjects are you taking this year?" This was easier than he had expected and talking seemed to take his mind off thinking about... damn, almost anyway.    
   
"Twelve, what about you?"    
   
Harry felt very stupid all of a sudden. "Just nine."    
   
Malfoy seemed to sense his embarrassment. "I guess you have a lot of other stuff to worry about though, Quidditch and stuff."    
   
"You have Quidditch too," Harry reminded him.    
   
"Yeah." Malfoy's expression seemed to darken.    
   
"What?"    
   
"Nothing." Malfoy looked at the door as if hoping the teacher would walk in.    
   
"I may be better than you at Quidditch, but you're still pretty good," Harry told him, assuming his expression was something to do with Harry always beating him in Quidditch.    
   
"Don't say that!" Malfoy seemed upset, he didn't raise his voice but his speech became much more intense. "My father bought my way onto that team and we both know it."    
   
"You would have got there yourself eventually," Harry told him, wondering why he was being nice to Malfoy again. Probably something to do with the fact that Malfoy was still being nice to him. It was really difficult to keep up this sworn enemies thing when neither side was doing any fighting, and Hermione wasn't helping any. Mind you, by the sound of the argument next to him, Ron was willing to keep it up for all four of them.    
   
Just then Professor Hartlebury arrived and all conversation ceased as he began to discuss today's class.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Wed 24th Sept**  
   
That morning at breakfast Harry sat in between Ron and Hermione. Strangely, despite the fact that he had also been talking to Malfoy, it was Hermione alone that Ron was not speaking to.    
   
Mind you that was probably because during their argument Hermione had called Ron close-minded and immature and had insinuated that he was acting more like the old Draco Malfoy than Malfoy was.    
   
Ron hadn't taken that very well and had told her she was being a silly cow and insinuated that she was only being nice to Malfoy because she wanted into his pants which he, Ron, thought was absolutely revolting.    
   
It had kind of devolved from there.    
   
Harry had gotten a blow by blow replay last night from Ron in high dudgeon about it all. He had listened politely and commiserated appropriately and wondered how he was going to reconcile the fact that he was ecstatically happy at having exchanged a few polite words with Malfoy with the fact that Ron was his best friend and he didn't want that to change. He understood Ron's attitude... well he sort of did, Ron did seem to be getting very over-wrought over one conversation. But he knew he should be against being nice to Malfoy simply on principle. Somehow he just couldn't summon up the passion Ron had for hating Malfoy any more, all his passions seemed to be pointing him in another direction.    
   
Hermione, if Harry knew her and he did, was probably in stubborn mode now. She'd make friends with Malfoy just to spite Ron, just to prove a point.    
   
There was no doubt about it, this was going to get very messy.    
   
As Malfoy walked into the Great Hall Harry actually heard Ron growl.    
   
The day went on with Harry playing go between through Care of Magical Creatures. Then he and Hermione had Spell Creation together without Ron and he had a chance to talk to her alone.    
   
"So are you and Ron going to keep this up all week?" he asked her.    
   
"Don't ask me," she sniffed. "Ask Ron, he's the one being an idiot."    
   
"Uh-huh. So what were you and Malfoy talking about yesterday anyway?"    
   
"Just class. I was curious about him after what you said last week and I thought I'd talk to him and see if he had changed?"    
   
"And?"    
   
"He's not easy to talk to," she said thoughtfully. "About anything personal anyway. When I got him talking about class he was fine but trying to get anything else out of him was impossible. He'd go all monosyllabic and clam up. But he was... pleasant. Polite. It was kind of nice, he's so different from the other boys in our year."    
   
"I'm beginning to worry Ron might be right about you fancying him," Harry joked nervously. He had sudden paranoid visions of Hermione and Malfoy becoming an item and him having to hang around with them pretending he thought it was great.    
   
"Oh for goodness sake, Harry, don't you start. I'm not attracted to Malfoy, I'm just curious. And he's pretty smart, it's nice to talk to someone who's actually interested in their classes." Her 'unlike you and Ron' was left implied. "We have History and Astronomy together this afternoon and I'm certainly not going to ignore him just because Ron thinks everything revolves around sex."    
   
"I know. It doesn't bother me if you want to talk to him."    
   
"What were you talking to him about yesterday? I couldn't hear for Ron yelling at me."    
   
"Nothing much. Although... he was kinda weird when Quidditch came up. He actually admitted that his father had bought his way onto the team, he seemed kind of upset that I thought he was a good flyer."    
   
"You told him you thought he was a good flyer?" asked Hermione, a little surprised.    
   
"I did say I was still better than him. But that's not the point. He was being really... I dunno... sensitive? It was weird. He seemed to pick up that I was embarrassed he was taking more subjects than me and he was trying to make me feel better about it. The guy is acting really strange."    
   
"He certainly is... and speaking of people acting strange," said Hermione. "We still need to finish that conversation we started last week."    
   
"We did finish that conversation," said Harry firmly.    
   
"Don't be like that, Harry."    
   
"Drop it, Hermione, class is starting." It was a cheap trick but if anything could distract Hermione it was the sultry siren song of academia.    
   
After that they had Transfiguration then lunch then Charms, all with Ron, meaning Hermione didn't have another opportunity to speak to him alone until after dinner.    
   
When Harry saw her bearing down on him with an intent look he quickly scarpered and spent the rest of the evening hiding from her. However when he got back to his dormitory that night there was a large manilla envelope on his bed with 'Harry' written across it in Hermione's handwriting.    
   
He opened it up cautiously and pulled out the contents. On the top was a handwritten parchment...    
   
Harry,  
   
       I really wish you would let me talk to you about this    
because I'm sure it would make you feel a lot better about  
things. You don't have to hide the fact that you are gay from    
me, it is nothing to be ashamed about and I'm sure everyone  
would be very supportive. You don't have to worry about anyone  
else knowing, it is up to you to tell them when you are ready.  
I started to figure it out last year but I wasn't sure till I  
saw how you reacted when I asked you about it. I have enclosed    
some reading material for you. I hope after you have looked at    
it you feel you can come to me about all this.  
   
                             Your friend,  
                                           Hermione  
   
Harry lifted off the parchment and gazed in horror at the pile of leaflets in his hands, reading the titles. 'I'm Gay and I'm Okay', 'Wizards Have Feelings Too', 'Coping With Being a Gay Teenage Wizard', '50 Ways to Come Out to Your Friends  & Family', 'Everything You Wanted To Know About Being A Gay Wizard But Were Afraid To Ask', 'So I'm Gay, What Does That Mean?', 'Gay Sex... The Things You Need To Know'.    
   
He stared wide-eyed at that last one... there were things he needed to know? His hand hovered over the front page as he wondered whether there were moving pictures inside. Then Ron's voice broke into his hypnotic state.    
   
"What is that stuff?"    
   
Startled, Harry almost threw the entire pile of leaflets up in the air. Which would have been a disaster of epic proportions. Thankfully he managed to keep a grip on them and quickly stuffed them all back into the envelope.    
   
"Nothing. Just Hermione trying to get me interested in more classes. You know what she's like."    
   
The mention of Hermione was more than enough to distract Ron from the envelope, which he hastily stuffed into the very bottom of his trunk. When he got the chance he'd burn it.    
   
That night he couldn't get to sleep. Partly because he'd slept till lunchtime that day and partly because he was desperately curious to know what it was he needed to know about gay sex. Not that he was ever going to have gay sex cause he wasn't gay, but that didn't mean he wasn't curious about what was in the leaflet. Just for knowledge's sake and all that.    
   
Eventually he gave in and quietly dug the envelope back out of his trunk then retreated to his bed and lit his wand to take a look.    
   
He opened up 'Gay Sex... The Things You Need To Know', bracing himself for any moving pictures he might find, only to see nothing but screeds of text and flashy headlines. 'Don't Know? Go Slow!', 'Archaic Laws You Need to Know About', 'AIDS: Not Just the Muggle Plague', 'Condoms v Protection Spells', 'Oral Sex is not Safe Sex'.    
   
Fighting the temptation to throw them all back in his trunk Harry glanced over the first few sections...    
   
  Don't Know? Go Slow!  
   
  Just because you're gay doesn't mean you should feel pressurised    
  into having sex straight away. Plenty of gay couples take their    
  time or don't have sex at all. Try just holding hands and kissing.    
  If your partner asks you to do something you feel uncomfortable    
  about Just Say No.  
   
Harry skipped ahead to the next section...    
   
  Archaic Laws You Need to Know About  
   
  There are many laws that apply to homosexual acts in the Wizarding    
  community. As you may know the Wizarding Age of Consent is 15,    
  however that does not apply to homosexual couples. The Homosexual    
  Age of Consent is 21 despite many attempts over the past few    
  decades to lower it to 18. The standard sentence for breaking the    
  Age of Consent Law is ten years in Azkaban, this may be commuted    
  to five years in cases where the age difference is minimal. Other    
  laws you should be aware of appear in the 1659 Order of Common    
  Decency Act. This act makes it illegal to commit homosexual acts    
  in any location other than your official place of residence. It    
  also states that if you are seen committing homosexual acts by a    
  third party, even if you are within your official place of    
  residence at the time, you have committed a crime. Test cases have    
  proven that an animal, house elf or even a ghost can be considered    
  a third party.  
   
By this point Harry had read more than enough. He wasn't even entirely sure what a homosexual act was but by the looks of things doing anything about his perverse fantasies would get him thrown in Azkaban quicker than he could say 'but I'm not gay'. Which he wasn't, so of course it didn't really matter. Thank God for that.    
   
Harry lay awake for a long time after putting the leaflets away again.    
 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Thurs 25th Sept**  
   
That morning at breakfast Draco received an owl from his father along with a package of food and other stuff from his mother.    
   
Making sure no-one was close enough to read over his shoulder he opened the letter...    
   
Draco,  
       I hope everything is going well at school. I hear that you are  
not yourself this year, I am presuming that you are following my advice  
to focus more on your duties than on your social life.  
       I and our mutual friend look forward to hearing about everything  
you have been doing in the near future. I am sure we will find anything  
you might wish to tell us about to be very interesting.  
   
                                         Lucius Malfoy  
   
Draco crumpled the letter into a ball and stuffed it into his pocket. 'your duties', 'our mutual friend'... could his father be any more transparent. Was he under the impression Draco might have forgotten what he was supposed to be doing?    
   
He knew he was overreacting to the letter but still he wanted to grab his father and scream in his face to leave him alone. He had been in a good mood when he had got up. He and Granger seemed to be getting on pretty well now and he had Double Dark Arts this morning with Harry. He had almost been able to forget that he was stuck in the middle of some twisted plan to kill Harry Potter and take over the world.    
   
It was all so stupid. Take over the world... why? The world wasn't perfect but that was no reason to go over the top and try and take it over. Did his father really think that a psychopathic pervert like Voldemort would do better at running it than the people doing it now? Cause paperwork didn't really seem like something Voldemort was very good at and running the world took an awful lot of paperwork. Draco ought to know, he was studying Magical Politics  & Law this year. Maybe his father thought that Voldemort would do the taking over bit and then he would do the running bit, end up with all the real power. Was that why his father let him... he didn't even want to think about that though. Wondering why reminded him too much of what and how and he suddenly wasn't hungry any more.    
   
He pushed his plate away and carried his package back down to his dormitory, taking a moment to sit on his bed and feel sorry for himself before he headed up to class.    
   
As he walked up to the class, unusually late, he wondered if Granger had kept him a seat. She had said yesterday in Astronomy that he should sit with them again since he wasn't really getting along with the other Slytherins right now. He had suspected that the offer was actually part of some internal power struggle between her and Weasley but had accepted anyway.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Harry had not had a very pleasant breakfast although it had probably been better than Hermione's. Ron was still not speaking to her and Harry, while not exactly mad at her, was not really in the mood to give her any leeway either.    
   
They walked up to Defence Against the Dark Arts in a stony silence. When they got there they sat down in a row with Harry in the middle, Hermione sat her bag on the chair next to her so no-one else could sit in it. Then she took out a small piece of parchment, scribbled something on it and passed it surreptitiously to Harry.    
   
It read, 'Did you get the stuff I left for you?'    
   
Harry scowled and turned the paper over. He wrote, 'I burned it. Why won't you just drop it?' and passed it back to her.    
   
She glared back at him and then picked up her bag and moved one seat down, plumping her bag on the seat between them. Her look said, 'Fine, be like that.'    
   
In return he turned his back on her and tried to engage Ron in conversation.    
   
"So, um... did you get that Muggle Studies essay finished yet?"    
   
"Yeah, I finished it last night. Where were you last night anyway?"    
   
"Oh... just about. Avoiding Hermione."    
   
"How come?"    
   
"Well... she'd just want to talk about the fact that you're not talking to her or else go on about her classwork."    
   
"Yeah, she's..." Ron broke off and started scowling.    
   
Following his gaze Harry saw that Malfoy had arrived and was coming towards them. In fact Hermione was beckoning him over. " _Here we go again,"_ thought Harry. He thought Malfoy looked a little down about something and wondered what was wrong. Then he wondered when he'd started being so attuned to Malfoy's moods that he would even notice the slight signals he gave off that indicated what they were. Draco wasn't exactly an open book. Draco? Bugger, where had that come from.    
   
Draco sat down in the seat Hermione was frantically indicating he should sit in and was about to say hello to Potter when he caught a look from him which clearly conveyed that while he, Harry, was quite happy to sit next to Malfoy and talk to him, now was really not a good time to do so owing to the fact that Weasley was about to blow a gasket and possibly take half the classroom with him if he so much as gave him, Malfoy, the time of day.    
   
Draco nodded his comprehension and turned away, pondering his increasing ability to read Potter's expressions. Not that Harry was hard to read but still. He guessed it was just familiarity, apparently it didn't breed contempt after all. Who knew.    
   
Harry spent a rather tense couple of hours between one person he couldn't talk to and another who was too annoyed to string a sentence together. However about a half hour before the end of the class Malfoy leant over to take something out of his bag and slipped a note onto Harry's desk. Harry quickly hid it under his arm and glanced over to Ron to make sure he hadn't noticed but Ron was oblivious to everything, glowering at his notes. Harry opened up the note and read it...    
   
Potter,  
         Read up on Silencing Potions for tomorrow, Snape always tells    
the Slytherins what we're doing in advance.  
                                                  Draco  
   
Harry looked over at Draco in amazement but he was looking the other way. He turned back to the note and let his fingers trace over Draco's elegant signature. After a moment he folded it back up and tucked it into his pocket. Then he tore off a piece of his own parchment and scribbled,    
   
Snape sucks.  
 Thanks,    
         Harry  
   
Trying to look inconspicuous he bent down to tug his sock up and dropped the note into Draco's bag. That certainly explained why even the thickest of the Slytherins seemed to manage better at Potions than the Gryffindors.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Later that day things came to something of a head on the Ron front, though neither Harry nor Hermione were there to see it. That afternoon Ron and Draco had double Muggle Studies together, a subject neither Harry nor Hermione were taking. As a result they only heard about it after the fact.    
   
In the meantime Harry was stuck with Hermione for a free period and then Spell Creation and he had the horrible feeling she wasn't going to give up.    
   
However after a few swiftly shut down starts she limited herself to regular chit chat and dark looks that implied this was not going away.    
   
When they arrived at their last class of the day, Herbology, Ron didn't show up. At first they thought he was just late, but apparently not. Finally Harry leaned over to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was also taking Muggle Studies, and asked, "Where's Ron?"    
   
"You didn't hear?"    
   
"Hear what?" asked Hermione.    
   
"Oh boy. Ron sat next to Malfoy and none of us had the faintest idea why until half way through class he leaps out his seat and starts yelling at him to stay away from Hermione and Malfoy tells him to mind his own business, then Ron said Hermione was his business and Malfoy said that it wasn't his fault if Hermione liked him better than she liked Ron..."    
   
"Oh no," muttered Hermione. "I can already see where this is going. Are they just in trouble or are they in traction?"    
   
Justin shrugged. "Both I think. Ron punched him in the face and then Malfoy hexed him."    
   
Hermione buried her head in her hands. "I am going to kill him. He sat next to Malfoy on purpose just so he could start a fight."    
   
"Was Ma... I mean... is Ron okay?" Harry asked, hoping Justin might cover the state of both.    
   
"I dunno... I didn't catch the spell Malfoy used but it dropped him like that." Justin clicked his fingers. "It was pretty neat actually. I never saw anyone draw their wand so fast. Dangerous little bastard. Anyway Professor Burbage had both of them out of there before we could really figure out what he'd done to him."    
   
Their hour long Herbology class seemed to drag incredibly after that, both of them desperate to find out what was going on. When class ended Harry and Hermione both raced for the Hospital Wing. They were met as they opened the door by Madame Pomfrey.    
   
"Now, now. Slow down there. Mr Weasley is going to be just fine."    
   
"Can we see him?" panted Hermione.    
   
"I'm afraid not, he'll need complete quiet for a few days. Now run along."    
   
"But what did Malfoy do to him?" asked Harry. "I thought he just Stupifyed him or something."    
   
Madame Pomfrey's expression turned very serious. "Mr Malfoy didn't use any curse you children need to know about. Now go on with you... you can visit Mr Weasley in a couple of days."    
   
"You mean he used some sort of Dark Arts thing?" asked Harry, horrified.    
   
"I told you, run along. Professor Dumbledore will deal with Mr Malfoy."    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco sat in Professor Dumbledore's office under the stern eye of Professor McGonagall and waited. She had confiscated his wand and he knew he was in serious trouble. To put it simply, he was completely and totally screwed.    
   
The spell he had used on Weasley was not the sort of thing you found on the Hogwarts curriculum, strictly Dark Arts. He hadn't even known he'd cast it until it was done, his reaction to the physical attack so instinctive it had all been over before he realised he was even holding his wand. The words already past his lips... Disanimus.    
   
It was half way between Stupefy and Avada Kedavra, if not treated quickly it could kill. It sent the recipient into a coma like state, suspended between life and death. He had been drilled in it over the summer, obviously his training had stuck better than he'd thought.    
   
But he knew Weasley would be fine, he'd been treated straight away and Madame Pomfrey knew what she was doing. No, it was he who was in real trouble... and not from Dumbledore either. This could screw up everything. He had to convince Dumbledore not to write to his father... his father would still hear about it of course but chances were he wouldn't get the details or know what spell Draco had used. There weren't any other Slytherins in his Muggle Studies class. If Dumbledore wrote to him his father might decide his cover was blown, that there was no chance he could accomplish his mission. Then he would be called back home... back to join Voldemort.    
   
The door behind him opened and Dumbledore entered.    
   
"Headmaster," said McGonagall. "I presume you have heard what occurred?"    
   
"Indeed, indeed." He sat down opposite Draco with a serious expression. "Well, Mr Malfoy, what do you have to say for yourself?"    
   
This was it, this was his one chance to save his skin. It was time to suck in his pride and grovel. "I didn't mean it, Professor. I swear. I'll apologise to Weasley as soon as he wakes up. I'm really sorry. Please, don't tell my father."    
   
"Don't tell your father?" said McGonagall. "Should you not be a little more concerned that you could be expelled? Casting a Disanimus curse, and on a fellow student!"    
   
Draco's face drained of what little colour it had left.    
   
Professor Dumbledore studied him intently for a moment then said, "Thank you, Minerva. I shall deal with this myself and you can get back."    
   
McGonagall seemed surprised at being dismissed, but nodded and left them alone.    
   
"Alone at last, Mr Malfoy. I don't doubt you have good reason for not wanting your father to hear about this. Why don't you tell me what it is?"    
   
Draco wasn't sure what to say. On the one hand he knew Dumbledore had been one of the few people able to stand against Voldemort, on the other his father and their friends had always painted Dumbledore as an eccentric, old fool. He decided to stick close to what Dumbledore surely already knew given what had happened at the end of last year.    
   
"You know who... what my father is," he began. "I'm sure... Potter must have told you that he saw him... that night. When..." he trailed off.    
   
"We are to speak frankly then, Mr Malfoy. That is good. Yes, I know that your father is a Death Eater. Hence my lack of shock that you would be aware of and capable of using such a dangerous spell. What I do not understand is what you want. Why are you still here at Hogwarts, Mr Malfoy? And what is your interest in Harry Potter and his friends?"    
   
"I... I don't know what you mean."    
   
"I thought we were going to be frank, Mr Malfoy. I am not so old as to be going blind, I am quite aware that you have been attempting to befriend Harry and Hermione. What I do not know is why? I would also like to know why you are concerned about your father hearing what occurred today. I very much doubt he would shed any tears over the fate of young Ronald Weasley."    
   
"I... I can't tell you. Please... you can punish me any way you want just don't tell my father and don't send me home. I can't go back there. I promise you, I'm not trying to hurt Harry... I didn't even mean to hurt Weasley. It just happened so fast."    
   
Again Dumbledore studied him and it felt as though he were looking right into his soul. Finally he spoke. "There are things that you need to tell me Mr Malfoy... Draco. I don't expect you feel able to just yet but when you do I want to you to come to me. In the meantime I shall not inform your father of what occurred. I shall, however, be confiscating your wand for the time being. However unintended your actions may have been the fact remains that you cast a very dangerous spell and I will not risk the safety of my other students until you learn to control yourself."    
   
"But my classes!"    
   
"Mr Malfoy! You will simply have to make do, I feel sure that you are talented enough not to let this hold you back. You will also receive a month of detention and apologise to Mr Weasley."    
   
Draco nodded miserably.    
   
"Mr Weasley will join you for one week of that detention once he has recovered and he too will apologise. He is far from innocent in this matter."    
   
Draco's mood lightened a little at that.    
   
"You may go now, Mr Malfoy. Dinner will be starting shortly."    
   
Draco left gratefully and immediately went to his dormitory to write a letter to his father. Damage control against whatever might filter back home.    
   
   
Father,  
         I don't know if you heard but I had a run in with one of  
the Weasley boys today. Stupid git isn't reacting well to the fact  
I get on better with Potter than he does and he attacked me. I  
showed him though and didn't even get into that much trouble since  
Weasley started it. He won't try that again.  
         Things are going well as we discussed over the summer. I  
had a nice talk with Dumbledore after the Weasley incident and this  
may allow me to become more familiar with him. I know you feel I  
should spend more time talking to my teachers. I am also making  
new friends among my class mates, I often sit with Potter and his  
friend Granger... hence the Weasley incident.  
         I shall write with more news soon.  
   
                                         Your son,  
                                                   Draco  
   
PS. Tell mother I said thank you for the package.  
   
He sealed the letter and ran up to the Owlery to send it off before running down to dinner. Now all he had to do was convince Harry that what happened was Weasley's fault.    
   
Unfortunately when he entered the Great Hall and glanced over to the Gryffindors he could tell he had lost most of the headway he had made. Granger gave him a furious glare but Harry's look was more betrayed than anything.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Friday 26th Sept**  
   
Draco spent a miserable morning. First he had Transfiguration, which was completely impossible without a wand, so he spent the hour at the back reading his text book while everyone else transfigured a piece of wood into a candle. Something that was considerably harder than it sounded since the wood had to not only look like a candle but burn like a candle.    
   
Then he had Arithmancy, something that should have been fine but for the fact that it meant facing up to the wrath of Granger. She was waiting for him when he arrived and bore down before he could even enter the class.    
   
"What did you do to him?" she hissed. "Madame Pomfrey said it was something awful. I know he started it but that's no excuse. I should've known better than to speak to you in the first place, Ron was right. He's worth ten of you! You cowardly, sneaky..."    
   
It looked like Granger was carrying a heavy dose of guilt over what had happened. He held up his hand. "Enough, I get the picture."    
   
"How dare you, I'll tell you when it's enough."    
   
"Look, I'm sorry!" he stated.    
   
"What?"    
   
"You're right, there's no excuse. What I did was wrong and I'm sorry."    
   
Hermione stared at him in surprise and he took advantage of the silence.    
   
"I didn't mean to hurt him, it all just happened so fast. I did it without thinking."    
   
"What did you do anyway, Madame Pomfrey wouldn't tell us." Hermione seemed a little shell shocked by his apology.    
   
"I... I don't know if I should say. I don't think Dumbledore would want me to go around showing people that particular curse. I was lucky he didn't expel me."    
   
"What did he do?"    
   
"Confiscated my wand, gave me a month of detention." Draco shrugged. "Nothing I didn't deserve."    
   
"Right," Hermione seemed to pull herself together a bit. "Right, well... just stay away from us then. I think that's for the best, don't you?"    
   
"If that's what you want."    
   
"It is." And with that she turned away and entered the classroom.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Harry met Hermione outside the Great Hall after Double Divination, which had been even more boring alone than it was with Ron there.    
   
"So, how was Arithmancy? What did Malfoy have to say for himself?"    
   
"He said he was sorry!" said Hermione, as if it were the worst insult imaginable.    
   
"Oh... well, that's good isn't it?"    
   
"Good would be if Ron weren't lying unconscious in the hospital wing. Actions speak louder than words, Harry. We should all steer clear of Malfoy, he's bad news."    
   
"Right," said Harry, meaning it and yet wishing things could have turned out differently. He felt... stupid. Stupid to have listened to what he had thought were his instincts but were most likely just his hormones, stupid to have believed he and Malfoy could ever be friends. He looked down at his potions book in his bag, he had spent last night reading up on Silencing Potions despite the events of the day before and his hand strayed to his pocket where he suddenly remembered he had tucked the note Malfoy had passed him. It was still there. He should burn it, along with those stupid leaflets that were still in his trunk. He'd do it later.    
   
Alone at the Slytherin table Draco ate sparingly, one hand idly fingering the folded scrap of parchment in his pocket, as he contemplated the potion he had looked up last night. If he was caught it would be the end of everything... but if he didn't do it... if he couldn't get close to Harry Potter he was of no use to Voldemort here. It couldn't hurt Harry and the results would be subtle enough to go unnoticed. In a week or so the effects would have completely worn off. But it would give him an edge, a way in and right now he could see no other option. The fight with Weasley had completely thrown him off schedule and he couldn't risk the weeks or months it might take to win back Harry's trust. Granger would follow his lead if he could win back Harry.    
   
He would decide this afternoon, in potions, and if need be steal the few ingredients he didn't have on hand.    
   
He waited for Harry outside Snape's classroom and when he saw him coming down the corridor he went to meet him.    
   
"Potter, can I talk to you for a minute."    
   
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Harry answered in a stilted tone.    
   
"I only need a moment."    
   
"What is it Malfoy? Come to apologise to me too? Hermione told me what you said to her and it doesn't change anything."    
   
"Potter, I didn't..."    
   
"Forget it, Malfoy. Just stay away from us. We're not your friends and we never will be."    
   
With that Harry stormed into the classroom and left Draco alone outside. " _Well, that's that,"_ he thought. " _I'll make it tonight and slip it to him tomorrow... somehow."_  
   
That night after dinner Draco shut himself in a storage room down in the dungeons and opened up his Advanced Potions for Mind Control  & Alteration book. Something else Dumbledore would confiscate if he knew about. Luckily there was no wand required to do this. He folded down the page and ran down it before starting...    
   
 Subtle Potion of Influence  
   
This potion will subtly encourage the recipient to agree with your    
point of view (as expressed to them verbally within 24 hours of having  
administered the potion). It's effects last approximately 5-9 days     
(depending on the amount administered) with the strength weakening    
gradually so as to leave the recipient unaware that his mind has been    
affected. Depending on how much they were previously opposed to the    
beliefs pressed upon them they may or may not return to their previous    
mind set.  
   
The potion requires a personal token from both parties involved.  
Possible items are a piece of hair or nail, a personal item which  
has spent a lot of time in physical contact with the party or the  
parties signature. For an especially strong result blood is  
recommended. The potion will have no effect when drunk by someone    
other than the parties with tokens included in the potion.  
   
Draco took a small scrap of parchment out of his pocket. On it was written...    
   
 Snape sucks.  
 Thanks,    
         Harry  
   
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Saturday 27th Sept**  
   
The next morning Draco went up to breakfast with a small vial of light green liquid tucked into his pocket.    
   
At the Slytherin table he studied the Gryffindors, wondering if maybe he should try again to get Harry to listen to him without the potion. For a start he had no idea how he was going to get him to take it anyway. What was he supposed to do? Walk up to him and say, 'Hi Potter, I know you hate me but will you drink this.'    
   
Just then there was a flurry of owls as the post arrived and his Father's favourite owl fluttered down to drop a parchment in his lap. He stared down at it and with slightly shaking hands opened it.    
   
Draco,  
        I received your letter. I hope you are correct that the Weasley  
boy will not interfere with your new friendships. Our business proceeds  
apace and I would be delighted to have you at home should things take a  
turn for the worse at school. There is much you could do here to assist me.  
        However should things go well inform me immediately, I have a  
task for you on behalf of our mutual friend.  
                                              Lucius Malfoy  
   
Draco folded the note and tucked it into his pocket next to the glass vial. Things were moving faster than he had thought, he would have to use the potion. His father had all but stated he would be recalled home if he couldn't get close to Potter soon. A task... well he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now he had to get Potter to drink his potion. As he watched the Gryffindors pouring out glassfuls of pumpkin juice from a large jug he realised how he could do it. He just had to figure out where Potter was sitting at lunch then make sure the jug for that section of the table had his potion in it. It would have no effect on anyone else and he had made quite a lot so the dilution shouldn't be a problem.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco lurked in the corner of the Great Hall and watched the Gryffindors file in for lunch, as soon as he saw Harry sit down he disappeared into the dark corridor behind him and sprinted for the kitchen. He skidded to a halt in front of the still life and tickled the pear until it turned into a handle. He entered the kitchen and headed for the Gryffindor table where the food was almost done being laid out. Just as he got there he was waylaid by a house elf in unusual garb.    
   
"Master Malfoy! What is you doing in here?" it asked suspiciously.    
   
Draco frowned at the creature. It was wearing a tea cosy on it's head. "I just came down to see what was for lunch, thought maybe I could snag some direct. Not really in the mood for socialising today." He turned back to the Gryffindor table.    
   
The creature actually grabbed his arm and tugged him back. "That is not your table, you should not be touching it."    
   
Draco turned back angrily. "Get your hands off me you disgusting little creature."    
   
Before he could do anything more a swarm of other house elves descended on them, tugging the strange one away from him.    
   
"We is very sorry, sir," grovelled one. "He is not knowing his place."    
   
Draco eyed the struggling elf who was being drawn away, there was something about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "That's all right. I just wanted a little lunch in private."    
   
"Of course, sir."    
   
As the house elves bustled off to fetch him a tray he turned quickly to the Gryffindor table and leant over as if to sniff the food laid out there. He quickly tipped the potion into the large jug of pumpkin juice and then stood up again. A moment later the food vanished, transported up to the Great Hall, and the elves returned with a tray for him.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
After lunch Draco caught Harry leaving the Great Hall.    
   
"Potter, can I talk to you a moment. I really think you want to hear what I have to say."    
   
"Come on, Harry. Ignore him," said Hermione, tugging him on.    
   
Draco held his breath, had Harry drunk the juice?    
   
"It's okay, Hermione. This'll just take a moment, I'll catch you up."    
   
He breathed again, so far so good.    
   
Harry followed him away from the crowd. "What is it, Malfoy? I'm in a hurry."    
   
For a moment Draco hated himself for what he was about to do, but touching his hand to the pocket that held his fathers letter he gritted his teeth and spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened with Weasley, it was an accident. I didn't mean to hurt him." He searched Harry's face, looking for traces of evidence that the potion was working. He looked completely normal.    
"I know it was an accident, you're not so stupid you would do something like that in front of an entire class and a teacher on purpose. But it still happened, Ron punched you and your gut reaction was to use some Dark Arts curse on him. How can I trust you after that? What happens next time one of us does something you don't like?"    
   
Draco doggedly stuck to his planned phrases, "I'm your friend, Harry. You can trust me. You know you can."    
   
"I... I guess so," for the first time Harry seemed momentarily confused. "I know I can trust you I was just... worried about what happened."    
   
"Weasley started it, it was his fault. You shouldn't blame me."    
   
"I... I know. You're right..."    
   
As Draco's words went more against the grain of Harry's beliefs he noticed more of a glaze in his eyes, his words were more faltering. Draco suddenly felt slightly sick, in the back of his mind he could hear an echoing voice, 'Try out the Imperius curse first, it's bound to come in useful in the future.' With a faint voice he whispered, "You want us to be good friends, Harry. I want us to be friends too."    
   
"Yes, we should be friends. There's no need for us to fight," Harry agreed more easily this time.    
   
His face strained, Draco nodded. "I knew you'd understand," he said bitterly.    
   
"Hermione's still mad at you though," said Harry, seeming to adjust to his newly created opinions. "And I don't think you'll've changed Ron's mind any."    
   
Draco winced at Harry's turn of phrase. "You can talk Hermione round, if you explain she'll understand," he answered, his voice hollow.    
   
"What about Ron?"    
   
"I'll figure something out, he'll come around." After all he had done it to Harry, what did it matter now if he used the same trick on Weasley.    
   
Harry nodded his agreement. Yes, Ron would come around. Of course he would. "I'm going up to the hospital ward and visit him just now, I could try and explain..."    
   
"No! No, don't worry about it. Weasley has a right to be mad for a little while, it's probably best if you let it lie for now. Give him some time."    
   
"Okay, you're right. Give him some time."    
   
Draco felt his lunch churning in his stomach. "I have to go, I'll talk to you later."    
   
"Talk to you later," Harry called after him and then set out for the hospital wing feeling a lot happier. Draco and he could still be friends, Ron hadn't ruined it after all.    
   
Draco turned and fled to his dormitory where he threw up what little lunch he'd had. He spent the rest of the day there, lying on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He couldn't bear the thought of bumping into Harry again and hearing him parrot back his agreement with everything Draco said.    
   
After several hours he rolled over and dug his knife and some towels out of his trunk then tied closed the silence charmed curtains on his bed. He hadn't done this since he had come back to school but tonight he could tell this feeling wasn't going to go away unless he did something about it. He took off his robes almost ceremonially, his hands only shaking slightly, and folded them out of the way. Then he laid out the old stained towel over his bedspread and sat on it, he twisted the second towel and stuffed it thickly between his teeth. Then with a slow draw of breath through his nose he studied the inside of his left thigh with a practised eye. _"A new scar,"_ he thought. _"This deserves a new scar."_ He laid the edge of his knife against an unmarked piece of skin and drew it down slowly, letting it cut in deep enough to leave a permanent mark. As he cut he bit down hard on the towel in his mouth, the only sound he emitted was a strangled groan. Blood ran down onto the folded towel under his leg. One inch, two, three... finally he drew the knife away and sat with his hands clenched watching the blood flow. His mind was completely clear, all he could feel was the burning pain in his leg. He let it wash over him until the blood began to clot then cleaned up clumsily and dropped into an exhausted sleep. Dreamless, he never dreamed when he cut himself before he slept.  


	4. Chapter 4

   
**Chapter 4 - Saturday 27th Sept cont**  
   
Harry met Hermione outside the door to the hospital wing where she was waiting for him.    
   
"What did Malfoy want you for?" she asked.    
   
"Same as he said to you. He wanted to apologise."    
   
"You should have told him to get stuffed, Harry. I thought we were going to stay away from him."    
   
"I know, but I thought I should hear him out. I mean what he did to Ron wasn't good, but he didn't mean it and Ron did start the fight."    
   
"Harry! He could have killed him!"    
   
"It was a mistake, if I stopped speaking to people every time they made a mistake I wouldn't have any friends left. Ginny nearly killed us all in second year and we forgave her."    
   
"She was being controlled by You-Know-Who, Harry!"    
   
"I know, look maybe that was a bad example. I just mean... everyone deserves a second chance, even Malfoy. He said he was sorry and that he wanted us to be friends and I believe him."    
   
"Are you sure, Harry? I thought we *were* giving Malfoy a second chance and as far as I'm concerned he failed it."    
   
"Well, maybe you could consider this a re-sit of his second chance?"    
   
"I just don't understand why you're bothering?"    
   
"Cause he asked me to. Cause he's been nothing but friendly to me all term and I'm not going to let a stupid fight that Ron started make up my mind for me."    
   
"Well, it's up to you, Harry. I won't try and stop you, but I don't particularly want to spend any more time around him and I very much doubt Ron's going to like it. Is Malfoy really worth losing one of your best friends over?"    
   
"Ron'll come around, it'll just take a little time. That's all."    
   
Hermione shook her head in concern. "Just don't say anything about Malfoy to him, please."    
   
"Course not, I'm not stupid."    
   
Hermione looked as if she thought otherwise.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Sunday 28th September**  
   
Draco woke early the next morning, having been asleep since not long after dinnertime. His leg ached, as did his head, and his throat and eyes were dry and scratchy. He hauled himself up amid the snoring of his roomates and limped into the bathroom to clean himself up.    
   
By the time he got into the shower the dried blood holding his wound closed had cracked and blood was oozing down his thigh again. He cleaned it off in the scalding hot water and wondered what the hell he was going to do... normally he conjured dressings magically but without his wand he couldn't perform magic. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and folded it up, pressing it hard to slow the blood, then shrugged on his bathrobe and went back to his bed. He couldn't go to Madame Pomfrey, even if she didn't ask awkward questions, and she would, she would heal it completely and that defeated part of the purpose. It had to heal normally, otherwise it wouldn't leave a scar.    
   
As he contemplated what he could use as a makeshift bandage he studied his other scars. There were an assortment of fine traceries on his body, most were from shallower cuts and would eventually disappear, some would not. The one on his chest just above his heart would never leave him, which was good because it had a purpose. Like all his permanent scars it was a reminder. This one said, don't ever forget that Voldemort is evil. It was one of the few scars that was not self-inflicted.    
   
The one still bleeding on his thigh said, don't forget that you are capable of evil too. It also said, don't forget that you did that to Harry. Don't forget that you don't deserve his friendship. Don't forget how betraying him made you feel. The cut was deep, almost the deepest he had ever made. There was only one deeper, a livid scar that still glowed red against the skin of his lower belly. When he'd made that one a part of him had wanted to sink the knife in further and rip out everything. Maybe he should have. It said.... a better person would have died first.    
   
Finally he ripped up one of his shirts and used it to bandage his leg. It wasn't very impressive looking but it would have to do. Then he dressed and headed up for breakfast, the empty ache in his stomach was comforting but he knew he should eat something.    
   
The Great Hall was virtually empty when he limped in, it was Sunday after all and he was up pretty early. But breakfast was served more casually on the weekends due to the lack of classes. He was slowly forcing his way through a few slices of toast and some tea when Harry arrived in the Hall. He was alone. Draco closed his eyes with dull acceptance, of course Harry would just happen to come early and alone to breakfast on the very day when Draco really couldn't deal with seeing him.    
   
"Hi, is it okay if I sit with you? Hall's pretty empty this time of the morning."    
   
Draco opened his eyes and nodded. "Sure, why not," he answered hollowly.    
   
Harry grabbed some toast and looked him over. "Are you okay? You look kinda... well you look terrible actually."    
   
"Thanks. I really needed to hear that. I'm fine, I just didn't sleep very well. What are you doing up so early?"    
   
"Dunno. I just woke up and didn't feel tired any more so I thought I'd come down for breakfast. Miss the rush." He laughed cheerily. There was never a rush on Sundays, in fact half the school skipped breakfast altogether on Sundays. "I saw Ron yesterday, he was awake. He's pretty mad at you but he's getting better faster than Madame Pomfrey expected. She said he'd probably be able to go to class by Tuesday or Wednesday."    
   
"That's great."    
   
"Yup." In the time it had taken Harry to tell him that much he had already eaten twice what Draco had in the last half hour. "I told Hermione that we talked and things are okay between us, but she's still pretty mad at you too. I think she blames herself for Ron getting hurt, you know cause she fell out with him over talking to you."    
   
Simply sitting next to Harry seemed to be draining the energy out of him. His thigh was really starting to ache again and his toast tasted like cardboard in his mouth. He desperately wanted to talk to Harry, about anything... about everything. But the Potion of Influence was undoubtedly still in effect, the initial 24 hours was not yet up, and how could he say anything to him when he knew that. On the other hand he could ask Harry to help him with his leg, if he told Harry it was an accident he would accept it as true. Then he could get it cleaned and bound properly and not need to worry about it getting infected or something. Not that it wouldn't serve him right if it did. But still...    
   
"Potter, can I ask a favour?    
   
"Sure, what is it?"    
   
"I... hurt my leg this morning. It's nothing serious, it's just that without my wand I can't conjure any dressings."    
   
"Why didn't you go to Madame Pomfrey?"    
   
Draco thought quickly. "She's still mad at me about Weasley." A weak excuse but until the potion wore off around lunchtime Harry would believe anything he told him. "Would you take a look at it for me?"    
   
"Of course. Here?"    
   
"No, we should go somewhere private. Are you done eating?"    
   
Harry looked down at his half eaten breakfast and shrugged, "Sure. Where do you want to go?"    
   
"Follow me." Draco stood up without his usual grace and bit his lip hard as he stepped over the bench. Then, limping slightly, he led Harry down to the storage room he had made the potion in.    
   
Sitting down on an old trunk he lifted up the hem of his robes to reveal the blood-stained strips of cloth covering his left thigh.    
   
Harry gaped open mouthed as Draco folded back his robes to a positively scandalous height revealing long tanned legs marred only by the ragged attempt at a bandage.    
   
Draco, mistaking Harry's expression, repeated, "The cut's not serious, it just bled a lot."    
   
Harry tried to pull himself back together and knelt down to undo the makeshift bandage. When he got closer he realised that this wasn't the only blemish, close up he could see the pale traceries of several other scars along the other boy's thighs. He ran his fingers over them without thinking, unable to see the effect this caress had on Draco's expression. He removed the bandage and aiming his wand at the wound said, "Abluto Cruor." The blood vanished from the wound leaving it clean and visible. He studied it and the other scars nearby. _"It's not serious,"_ he thought, despite the fact that it clearly was. _"But how did he manage to cut himself there... and all these other scars... it's almost as if..."_ He looked up at Draco. "How long have you been doing this?" he asked.    
   
"What?" Draco looked startled, as if he hadn't expected Harry to be able to put two and two together to make four.    
   
"I'm not a complete idiot, Malfoy. How long have you been cutting yourself up and why the hell would you even start?"    
   
Harry looked really upset. He had to tell him something, another lie. But he couldn't seem to make his mouth open to tell another lie that Harry would only believe because he had drugged him. He just stared into those green eyes in horror and they stared back at him with pity, and Harry's hands were still resting on his thighs, his thumbs unconsciously moving in a repetitive and soothing caress. There was a strange feeling in his chest and throat, an aching pain, and for a moment he thought he was having some sort of heart attack. Then a sob burst from his mouth and he felt the heat of tears on his cheeks. For a moment he felt as if he were just a spectator to his body's visceral reaction. _"I'm crying,"_ he thought. _"That can't be right, I don't cry."_ But he was sliding off the trunk into a heap on the ground, his head falling down into Harry's lap as he curled around himself and he couldn't think any more as he wept out everything that he had been unable to bleed out of his body.    
   
Completely bewildered Harry did the only thing he could think to do and wrapped his arms around the crying boy, resting his head on Draco's back. He stroked his sides and gabbled whatever came into his head that he thought might help. "I'm sorry, it's okay, it doesn't matter, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."    
   
Through his tears he heard Draco gasp, "Don't say that, don't apologise to me. Please don't apologise to me."    
   
"Then tell me," he answered. "Tell me what's wrong."    
   
"I can't," Draco whispered. "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't..."    
   
So Harry simply rocked him until the tears finally slowed. They seemed to leave him empty inside and he slumped against Harry like a puppet with its strings cut as Harry propped him against the trunk, retrieved his wand and magically sealed and bound the cut on Draco's leg. Then he sat up and studied Draco's pale face, wondering what he should do now.    
   
Unexpectedly Draco spoke, though his eyes stayed downcast. "I didn't think you would realise," he said hoarsely. "No-one else ever realised, or if they did they never said. Maybe they just didn't care..." He didn't seem to be talking to Harry, more to himself.    
   
"Why?" asked Harry again.    
   
Draco looked at him now. "You wouldn't understand."    
   
"You're right, I probably wouldn't," Harry answered automatically.    
   
Horror and self-loathing again crossed Draco's features and he pulled himself away from Harry. "I have to go, you have to go."    
   
"I suppose I do," agreed Harry. "Maybe you should go lie down for a bit or something. I feel like I need a bit of a rest myself."    
   
Draco turned to leave.    
   
"But if you want to talk, about anything... just let me know."    
   
Draco disappeared out the door, leaving Harry sitting on the stone floor.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Monday 29th Sept**    
   
Monday dawned on a very confused Harry Potter. He had expected this year to be difficult but it was turning out to be for completely different reasons from those he had prepared himself for. He had expected to be constantly aware of the absence of Cedric Diggory, not the presence of Draco Malfoy. He had expected constant worry about Voldemort and what awful events would overtake him next in the fight against him. Instead all had been quiet on that front and his fights all seemed to be emotional, battling his own feelings and desires. It were as if the changes in Malfoy had infected Harry and his group of friends and he felt to blame for that. It was his perverse interest in Malfoy that had drawn the Slytherin into their lives. His desire to reach out to him that had inspired Hermione to do the same. Mind you he wasn't taking the fall for what had happened to Ron, Hermione could blame herself if she wanted to but as far as Harry was concerned it was Ron's own damn fault he'd got hexed. All the Weasley's were hot tempered, but Draco hadn't done a thing to provoke him this term.    
   
Which led him back to wondering what the hell was going on with Draco. The change in personality, the scars, the crying... Harry felt seriously out of his depth. Draco obviously needed help with something but he had no idea how to help him. He couldn't even sort out his own problems, couldn't even comfort a crying friend without getting turned on by the physical contact. How fucked up was that.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco had slept dreamlessly again for the second night in a row but did not feel the better for it. He woke up early, again, feeling hollow and dehydrated. He was still tired but he knew it was just because he'd overslept. He'd in fact slept just about twenty four hours around the clock having gone back to bed as soon as he'd left Harry yesterday morning. Every time he'd woken he'd decided he simply couldn't face anyone, he had absolutely no desire to be anywhere but hidden in his bed. The psychology books he'd read had said crying was good, that it was cathartic. He'd assumed that if he could do it he would feel better, but instead he felt completely destroyed. It was as if something were broken inside of him. Maybe something had left him as he'd wept, something that had been sustaining him, making him able to function. And now it was gone and he didn't think he could survive without it.    
   
Now he understood why his father had said it was a sign of weakness. It made you weak, it left you defenceless. His father had been right. What else had his father been right about?    
   
Draco grasped for something to rebuild himself around. He looked down at himself, remembering more of his fathers advice. Give the appearance of strength and you will have strength.  He hauled himself out of bed, shivering with more than the cold, and proceeded to rebuild his defences. Starting with his appearance. An hour later he stood in front of the mirror in one of his most expensive sets of plain robes, wearing his finest boots and with his hair styled immaculately. He drew himself up and forced an expression of cold confidence onto his face and then let the reflection in the mirror persuade him that was really how he felt. He was Draco Malfoy, all of this emotional teenage crap was beneath him. He was Draco Malfoy.    
   
With that he swept out of the dormitory and headed for the Great Hall where he intended to eat a great deal of much needed food and get the hell on with his life. Deep inside him the broken part of him watched the stranger up above it and wondered how long this façade would stand before it cracked again.    
   
The day passed in a rush as Draco simply refused to acknowledge anything that threatened his carefully managed poise. He travelled through Hogwarts like a frozen bubble, hard and brittle and empty inside. He occasionally caught sight of Harry, but made a point of acknowledging him and then rushing off as if he were extremely busy. Polite but distant. He had a feeling that if he could just get through today he might be able to get through the rest of his life, all it would take was a determination not to feel anything. Discipline. His father's watchword had always been discipline. Control. When he felt a moment of weakness he would repeat that to himself, _"Discipline and control. Discipline and control. A Malfoy does not acknowledge weakness."_  
   
Towards the end of his last class a student came by with a message for him. He was to go to Professor Dumbledore's office after dinner. A moment of shock and fear ran through him but he quashed it. Sheer paranoia, of course Dumbledore didn't know what had happened yesterday. This was most likely about his upcoming apology to Weasley and the month of detention he was yet to start.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
As Harry had been about to leave Transfiguration that afternoon, Professor McGonagall had stopped him and informed him that Professor Dumbledore wished to speak to him during his free period before dinner.    
   
So now he stood outside the Headmaster's office, waiting and wondering why he was there. He couldn't think of anything that he had done that might lead to him being called to see Dumbledore. He began to worry that perhaps something had happened to Sirius.    
   
Finally the door opened and he was ushered in. He sat down and waited anxiously for Professor Dumbledore to explain what was going on.    
   
"Ah, Harry. Would you like some tea?"    
   
Harry shook his head nervously.    
   
"Dear me, you look positively terrified. There's nothing to worry about," said Dumbledore gently. "I just thought we might have a little chat. See how everything's going."    
   
Oh," said Harry, momentarily relieved and then slightly concerned. "You haven't been talking to Hermione have you?"    
   
"Miss Granger? No, do you think I should?"    
   
"No!" Harry lowered his panicked tone. "No, it's nothing. Forget I said that."    
   
"Very well. You do seem rather worried about something, though. Anything I can help you with?"    
   
"No, I'm fine, really."    
   
"Not worried about Mr Weasley?"    
   
"No, I saw him at lunchtime. He's looking a lot better. Madame Pomfrey says he might be back to classes tomorrow."    
   
"Indeed, yes. Young Mr Weasley appears to have a strong constitution. Nasty Disanimation Curse like that can take weeks to get over."    
   
"Disanimation Curse? That's what Malfoy used?"    
   
"Indeed he did. Standard dark arts attack, often used when they don't have the energy for the killing curse. Less taxing."    
   
"By they... you mean Death Eaters."    
   
"Yes," Dumbledore looked grave. "Tell me, Harry. Why do you think Mr Malfoy has suddenly decided to befriend you?"    
   
Harry frowned, thinking back over his conversations with Draco. "I don't know. He said... when I asked him why he was being nice he said something about having an eye-opening experience this summer. But I don't know what it was."    
   
"And you're not concerned about his ... connections?"    
   
"I know his father's a Death Eater, but that doesn't make Malfoy one. Look at my relatives, they brought me up and I'm nothing like them. Malfoy's... changed." Harry thought about what had happened yesterday morning. "Actually, I am worried about him. But not because I think he's working for Voldemort."    
   
"What are you worried about?"    
   
"I...." Harry looked torn. "I'm not sure I can tell you, it would be... it's private. To Malfoy I mean, I know he wouldn't want me to go talking about it with anyone."    
   
"Loyalty is an excellent trait, Harry. I hope it is not misplaced in this case. I also hope that if you do know anything which could be important, to the fight against Voldemort or to the safety of another student, you will not let loyalty stop you from informing me at once." Dumbledore sat back and sighed. "Goodness me, everything seems so fraught with tension these days. I think I shall have to take a nice long bubble bath tonight. I wonder where I put my rubber ducky."    
   
Harry goggled at the thought of Dumbledore in a shower cap, playing with a rubber ducky. "Can I go now?" he asked.    
   
"Of course, Harry. If there's nothing else you want to talk about?"    
   
Harry wasn't aware he had wanted to talk about anything at all so he shook his head.    
   
"Very well, off you run. Give Mr Weasley my regards if you see him and tell him I shall be along to visit him tomorrow lunchtime."    
   
"Okay. Bye then." Harry got up and left.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco entered the Headmaster's office with no visible qualms and settled himself in the available chair.    
   
"Mr Malfoy, we meet again."    
   
Draco met his gaze steadily but after a moment found he couldn't hold it and looked to the floor.    
   
"You will start your detention this evening, two hours a day after dinner until the 29th of October. Your first detention and all following Monday evening detentions will be here with me. Professor McGonagall will arrange for the rest of them and let you know where to be."    
   
Draco nodded.    
   
"So, whatever are we going to talk about for the next two hours, Mr Malfoy?"    
   
Draco looked up, startled, "What? I thought... don't you have some job for me to do?"    
   
"I thought we might just have a little chat instead, I do hate to work on a full stomach. Gives me terrible wind, don't you find?"    
   
Draco just stared at him.    
   
"Why don't you tell me where you learned that curse you used on Mr Weasley, it certainly isn't taught here."    
   
Draco had a terrible sinking feeling inside. Two hours of enforced conversation with Professor Dumbledore was bound to lead to him saying something he regretted. Maybe he should just refuse to talk... but he found he didn't really want to sit there projecting a stony wall of silence. The room was warm and comfortable and he got so little chance to talk to anyone these days. The headmaster had understood about not telling his father, maybe he could trust him a little. It was worth a shot. "My father taught it to me."    
   
"I thought as much. Does he teach you often?"    
   
"He... this summer he felt that it was time I started to learn about... that sort of thing. Sometimes he teaches me, sometimes other people."    
   
"But he still allowed you to return here, rather than send you to one of the more... Dark Arts friendly schools? Durmstrang for instance. I hear they have a new headmaster."    
   
Draco stared out the window and said quietly, "You don't trust me do you, you think I'm here as a spy for my father."    
   
"Are you?" Dumbledore asked in a incongruously friendly tone.    
   
"I don't know," answered Draco after a long time. "If I said yes would you ask me to leave?"    
   
"I am not going to ask you to leave here, Draco," Dumbledore said gently. "In fact I have come to the decision that leaving here would be extremely bad for you."    
   
"Why's that?" Draco asked sharply.    
   
Dumbledore smiled enigmatically. "I think you can answer that better than I can."    
   
Draco frowned. "Are you always like that?"    
   
"Like what?"    
   
"Never mind." Draco sighed. "I presume you expect me to give you information or something."    
   
"I try to presume very little, but if you have information that may help me I would be most grateful to hear it."    
   
Draco stared out the window again and scuffed his foot against the carpet. "I'll think about it, I probably don't know anything useful anyway."    
   
"We know very little about the whereabouts and movements of Lord Voldemort since he returned at the end of last term. Nothing but rumours. Anything you could tell us would be helpful."    
   
"I don't know where he is," said Draco truthfully. After all he didn't know where Voldemort was right now and he didn't care, he realised he was scratching at the scar on his chest and tucked his hands back into his lap. "When will I get my wand back?" he asked, changing the subject.    
   
"When I feel you are ready, when I feel I can trust you to think before you use it."    
   
"I can't do half my classes properly, my father will be angry if I fail my exams. He'll be angry if he even finds out you've confiscated my wand."    
   
"That is a bridge you will have to cross, Mr Malfoy. It is not up for discussion."    
   
"Well that's just fantastic," said Draco in annoyance. "So we only get to talk about what you want to talk about then? I think that makes this an interrogation not a chat!"    
   
"I find you quite fascinating, Mr Malfoy. Do you know there is not a single other student I can think of who would speak to me in that tone."    
   
Draco scowled at him sullenly.    
   
"I also don't think you would have done so a year ago. If you won't tell me what has caused you to change, perhaps you might tell me how you have changed. I find it remarkably difficult to figure out what is going on inside your head and that bothers me."    
   
"Well it doesn't bother me," snapped Draco. "It's my head and I don't need anyone else knowing what goes on inside it."    
   
"What are you so angry about?"    
   
"Nothing. I don't know." He picked something randomly, something that seemed safe. "Weasley."    
   
"Ah, yes, Mr Weasley. That seems as good a place to start as any. Why are you angry at Mr Weasley?"    
   
Draco jumped out of his chair and began to pace a bit. "It's just. What's the point in trying to change when no-one will let you? Everything would be so much easier if I was the same person I was last year, if I wanted the same things."    
   
"And what things did you want last year?"    
   
"To join..." Draco caught himself, "...stuff. Pass my exams, win the Quidditch Cup, make the Gryffindors lives as miserable as possible."    
  
"And now?"    
   
Draco wandered over to the window and stared out into the growing twilight. "I don't know... to be able to start again? Not to be a Slytherin, not to be a Malfoy... not to be me."    
   
"Who would you be?"    
   
"I don't know. Me, but not me."    
   
"Tell me how I can help you, Draco," Dumbledore asked softly.    
   
"No-one can help me," he answered. Almost unaware he was talking to someone, least of all Dumbledore. "No-one can change any of this."    
   
"How very pessimistic of you."    
   
Draco spun around as if suddenly realising he had been talking too freely. "I mean... I don't need help. I'm fine."    
   
Dumbledore smiled. "Tell me, Draco. When was the last time you asked for help when you needed it."    
   
Draco thought about yesterday morning and for a moment he felt that ache in his chest again. He quickly pulled himself upright, settling his features back in that familiar and comforting expression of cold confidence.    
   
Dumbledore studied him silently for a long time and then said, "I think that will do for today. You will meet me outside the hospital wing tomorrow after lunch to apologise to Mr Weasley, I believe you have a free period?" Draco nodded stiffly. "You may go now, Mr Malfoy."    
Draco strode haughtily out of the office and continued outside to the lake where he sat for a long time looking out over the water and burying his feelings back inside himself. The cold seemed to help.  


	5. Chapter 5

**The Marks We Bear Ch5 -  Tuesday 30th Sept**  
   
Harry got up early that morning instead of sleeping in. He was worried about Draco, it seemed like he'd been avoiding him yesterday and while he could understand that the other boy might be embarrassed about what had happened, Harry still wanted to make sure he was okay. Besides he'd promised Ron he'd hang out with him in the hospital wing during his free periods. So he headed down to breakfast early hoping to catch Draco before the rush.    
   
His luck was in, when he arrived in the Great Hall Draco was sitting alone at the Slytherin table and there were only a few other people around. Not surprising since it was only a quarter to eight and breakfast didn't officially start for another fifteen minutes.    
   
Last night at the lake Draco had spent a fair amount of time considering how to deal with the 'Harry situation' as he thought of it. He couldn't just ignore what had happened, he knew that unless he completely backed out of the friendship Harry would never let it lie. He had to handle it somehow. Acknowledge it and yet get them past it. He really didn't want to talk about it.    
   
He saw Harry coming over to him and wasn't really surprised, the only patience a Gryffindor understood was the card game and even then they got bored half way through. He took a deep breath and managed a less brooding expression.    
   
"Morning," said Harry, sitting down next to him and drawing a few frowns from those who noticed. "You... ah... feeling better today?"    
   
_"Straight to the point,"_ sighed Draco to himself. "I'm fine, Potter. I was just... having a stressful weekend."    
   
"Uh-huh." Harry fiddled with his cutlery. "You... um.... I... "    
   
"Potter, don't worry about it. I'm fine, really. I know you're worried but you really don't have to be, I can deal with this."    
   
Harry looked him in the eye with a gleam of determination that made something inside Draco ache a little. "You weren't dealing with it very well last time we spoke, Malfoy. Look..." Harry's voice was low to avoid them being over-heard, "I know you don't want to talk about it. We all have... stuff we don't want to talk about. I just want you to know that you can, if you change your mind... and that you don't have to do... that... any more." He gazed earnestly at Draco for a moment and then seemed to feel the weight of the emotional intensity between them. He broke eye contact and said flippantly, "I mean for Gods sake if it makes you feel any better you can always ask me or Ron to punch you in the face instead!"    
   
"I'm sure he'd be more than happy to oblige," remarked Draco dryly, relieved that Harry seemed to be done saying his piece. "Speaking of which, I have to go apologise to him after lunch. Should be fun."    
   
Harry nodded, seeming to become aware of the other students filing into the hall and giving him dirty looks for sitting at the Slytherin table. "I should probably go sit at the Gryffindor table, I get the feeling people don't approve of me being here. Besides, Hermione'll be down soon. Unless you want me to stay? I don't mind."    
   
"Don't be an idiot," said Draco. "Just because no-one likes me doesn't mean you should try and inspire the same feelings in them."    
   
"That's not true..." started Harry, looking concerned that Draco might be in need of support.    
   
Draco waved him back. "Scat, Potter. Shoo before the rest of the Slytherins get here and decide to have you for breakfast. I'll see you later in Defence Against the Dark Arts and you can hear all about my delightful meeting with Weasley."    
   
"Okay then. See you later." Harry headed over to the Gryffindor table and left a rather cheerier Malfoy behind him than he had found.    
   
Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table where, thankfully, none of his friends were down yet to quiz him about talking to Draco. _"Draco..."_ It was getting really difficult to remember to call him Malfoy, but Harry wasn't yet ready to cross that line verbally. For some reason it seemed like an important step that shouldn't be rushed.    
   
While he was pondering that Hermione came in with Ginny and sat down next to him. The older Ginny got the closer she and Hermione seemed to become. Harry figured it was because Hermione didn't get on that well with the other Gryffindor girls in her year or maybe just cause they had spent so much time together over the summer. Hermione had stayed with the Weasleys for a whole month.    
   
"Morning," he said.    
   
"Morning," Hermione answered, but for some reason Ginny was just staring at him without speaking. She didn't seem to realise she was doing it. He was about to put it down to her having a crush on him still when Hermione elbowed her in the ribs and a look passed between them.    
   
A feeling like ice being poured down his back shot through Harry as he realised what was going on. Hermione had told Ginny. Hermione had told Ginny! He could feel himself going bright red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. How dare she? He'd told her again and again that it wasn't true and not only had she refused to believe him she had started blabbing her stupid ideas to their friends. He turned and stared furiously at her, she was flushed too. There was nothing to say, not here in front of everyone. Finally he stood up and hissed at her, "Excuse me, I think I'm going to go and sit with the people who whisper lies about me in front of my face instead of behind my back. At least I know what to expect from them." Then he stalked back over to the Slytherin table and threw himself onto the bench next to Draco.    
   
"What the hell are you doing back here?" Draco whispered.    
   
"I don't want to talk about it," ground Harry, glaring daggers at Hermione. "So can I sit with you?"    
   
Draco shrugged. "It's your funeral. They already think I'm insane."    
   
"That's because you are."    
   
"Hey, Potter," shouted Pansy Parkinson from further up the table. "Finally cracked and forgotten which House you're in?"    
   
"Actually," drawled Harry, in a fair impersonation of the old Draco Malfoy. "I'm just here to experience the slimy underbelly of Hogwarts. Slumming it's in this season."    
   
Draco snorted, "That wasn't half bad, we'll make a Slytherin of you yet."    
   
"Say that again," Harry growled, "And I will punch you."    
   
Draco shook his head. "So you're just going to sit there and take your temper out on me are you?"    
   
"Yup," said Harry. "Aren't you glad we're such good friends."    
   
"Ecstatic." Draco went back to eating his breakfast. Actually it was rather nice to have Harry next to him, even if he was in a bad mood. He had sat alone all term, refusing to converse with the rest of his House on the grounds that they were all insufferably petty and repetitive. Plus it made him want to stab them with his fork when they started whispering about how exciting the rise of the Dark Lord was. Exciting! Morons. Give him five minutes with them back home and he'd show them how fucking exciting it was. Okay, now he was putting himself in a bad mood too. He turned his attention back to Harry. "So what did Granger say to you?"    
   
"She didn't say anything."    
   
"Well what did she do then?"    
   
"Look, you don't want to talk about the other day and I don't want to talk about this so just drop it!"    
   
"Fine."    
   
"Fine."    
   
"So... I started my detention last night."    
   
"Oh?"    
   
"Every evening for a month! And that's not even the worst of it."    
   
"Mmm?"    
   
"Every Monday I have to spend two hours talking to Dumbledore so he can pump me for information about my father and You-Know-Who."    
   
That did get Harry's attention. "What did you tell him?"    
   
"I told him I don't know where You-Know-Who is," Draco answered coldly, wishing he hadn't mentioned it.    
   
"Why do you call him that anyway?" asked Harry. "You-Know-Who. I would've thought..."    
   
"It's just habit," said Draco. "People get all jumpy when you say Voldemort."    
   
There was an air of revulsion in his voice when he said the name and it leant Harry an added level of comfort that it didn't seem faked. "You really don't believe that stuff any more?" he asked softly. "You don't support him?"    
   
Draco poked his eggs. "No," he answered, equally softly. "I don't."    
   
"How come?"    
   
"I... " he smiled and looked at Harry with an expression that almost touched on affection. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.    
   
Harry smiled back, it was kind of funny. At this rate they'd never be able to have a decent conversation. Then he asked, "But it's something to do with what happened this summer?"    
   
Draco looked introspective and slightly sad. "Yes, this summer."    
   
Harry had a sudden and irrational urge to burst into Summer Nights from Grease but restrained himself. "You're going to have to tell me what happened eventually."    
   
"Why?" asked Draco.    
   
"Because... I dunno. Because I think eventually you'll want to."    
   
"Maybe. Maybe if you tell me why you're mad at Granger." He gave Harry a challenging look.    
   
"She said these robes made my bum look big," Harry answered in a martyred tone.    
   
Draco laughed. "Liar."    
   
"So what happened this summer?"    
   
"I watched all 5 seasons of Babylon 5 back to back and realised I wanted to join the Army of Light."    
   
"I have no idea what you're talking about you know."    
   
"It's a Muggle TV show."    
   
"Since when do you watch Muggle tv?"    
   
"You'd be surprised what I get up to. So you've never seen Babylon 5? You don't know what you're missing, Potter."    
   
"So why don't you tell me?"    
   
Which led to Draco spending the rest of breakfast telling him the entire plot of the show along with suitably impressive gestures and fake voices. Which didn't half lead to them getting some strange looks.    
   
Once breakfast was over Harry headed up to the hospital wing to hang out with Ron, wondering what they would talk about. Harry wasn't used to finding it hard to talk to Ron, but all Ron seemed to want to talk about these days was Draco and Hermione... though not in the same way. When he wasn't planning painful revenge on Draco he was babbling on about something Hermione had said to him or asking Harry what she'd been doing. Whereas Harry found himself in the opposite situation, planning painful revenge on Hermione and feeling the urge to babble on about Draco. Thank God he'd thought to bring some cards and Ron's wizarding chess set with him.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Three long hours later Harry headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, wondering whether he should make up with Hermione or not. He both wanted to and didn't want to, he just wished she had kept her mouth shut so he didn't have to be mad at her. He should probably just go and sit with Draco again, the damage was already done on that front and he might be feeling nervous about apologising to Ron after lunch. Maybe Harry could give him some advice on what to say.    
   
When he entered the hall everyone at the Gryffindor table turned round and gave him looks ranging from curious to worried to downright angry. _"Definitely the Slytherin table,"_ he thought and headed over there. Draco was already sat there with a long suffering expression on his face.    
   
"You're such a Gryffindor," he said as Harry sat down.    
   
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, not sure whether to be offended or not.    
   
"Too pig-headed to make up with Granger and too stupid to sit at your own table."    
   
"I'd rather sit here."    
   
At that point Hermione entered the hall and saw where he was sitting. She stopped in her tracks and he could see her trying to decide what to do. Finally she said, "Oh for pity's sake!" and stomped over to the Slytherin table. She sat down next to Harry amid catcalls from the Slytherins.    
   
"Hey, Granger! Take your boyfriend and fuck off back to your own table."    
   
"Yeah, he smells funny. It's putting me off my lunch."    
   
Hermione hissed at Harry, "Don't think you can hide from me over here."    
   
"Why don't you go join the Gryffindors, Malfoy, you..." the words died in Blaise Zabini's throat as Draco stood up and turned to stare with deadly intent at him.    
   
"Did you have something to say to us, Zabini?" he asked in a tone that sent fear through even Harry despite the fact he knew Draco had no wand. It was so.... there was a depth of darkness to it that Harry had never heard from Draco before.    
   
Zabini went pale and sat down. "Nothing," he stammered. "I just... it was nothing."    
   
Draco sat back down and turned his back on the crowded end of the table.    
   
Harry stared at him in shock.    
   
"What?" he asked.    
   
"It was just... you sounded so..."    
   
"Scary," said Hermione.    
   
"Yeah," agreed Harry.    
   
Draco shrugged, "It's something I picked up..."    
   
"Over the summer," finished Harry.    
   
"I was going to say from my father," corrected Draco, "But, I suppose you're right. It never worked so well before this summer. I didn't even pull my wand and he still backed down."    
   
"I thought you didn't have your wand," said Harry.    
   
"I don't," answered Draco. "But he probably doesn't know that and he still nearly pissed himself."    
   
"I don't blame him," said Hermione shakily. "It sounded like you would kill him as soon as look at him." She looked at Harry pleadingly. "Come on, Harry. Come back to the Gryffindor table. This is silly."    
   
"How many of them have you told?" asked Harry coldly.    
   
"Only Ginny, Harry. I swear. And I know you're mad about it but she needed to know."    
   
"Know what?" asked Draco curiously.    
   
"Nothing," answered Harry. "Hermione's just got some stupid idea in her head about me that isn't true and now she's decided she needs to start informing other people about it."    
   
Draco gave Hermione and Harry both a very interested look then said casually, "So if it isn't true why don't you just tell me what it is?"    
   
Hermione caught Malfoy's eye, realising that he might not know *what* it was, but he certainly realised that it was probably true. On the other hand the last person she wanted on her side was Malfoy, especially after that little display. The guy scared her even without a wand and she wished Harry would stop hanging about with him.    
   
Harry shot him a look that Hermione couldn't see and said, "Why don't *you* tell me what happened this summer?"    
   
"Oh no you don't," answered Draco. "Not the same thing at all... unless what Granger thinks is true and that's why you won't tell me."    
   
"All I know is I told Hermione it wasn't true and she wouldn't believe me, how do I know you won't think the same thing? So drop it," he turned back to Hermione, "both of you." He started eating. "You should go, Hermione. I'm not really in the mood to talk to you just yet. Go back to the Gryffindor table and if you want to stay my friend you better tell Ginny you were wrong."  
   
Hermione looked at him in frustration for a minute then stood up and left for the Gryffindor table. Draco watched her go and wondered what it was that she had found out that was making Harry so defensive. Well, he'd find out eventually.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
After lunch Draco trudged up to the hospital wing with the air of a condemned man. On the bright side, without a wand he couldn't cock things up too badly, on the other hand he suspected Ron was probably going to try and hit him again. Harry had recommended he keep at least arms length away at all times and if in doubt, duck. Draco wasn't a coward, really, he just despised being hit in the face. It was his all time least favourite place to get hit and he still had the remains of a black eye from last time. Besides, physical violence was just so... tacky. Trust Weasley to resort to it instead of using his wand like a proper wizard.    
   
Dumbledore was waiting for him at the end of the corridor, talking to Madame Pomfrey. She gave him the evil eye as he approached them.    
   
"Mr Malfoy, right on time."    
   
Draco sucked in a sarcastic comment, there was no need to let his nerves get the better of him.    
   
"Are you ready to go in?"    
   
Draco nodded. "Let's get it over with."    
   
When they entered Weasley was out of his bed and wearing school robes rather than the pyjamas Draco had expected. He stood in the middle of the floor with his arms crossed and a buzz of righteous indignation humming around him. He said nothing to them but narrowed his gaze to glare at Draco.    
   
"Right," said Dumbledore, cheerfully ignoring the tension. "Mr Weasley, since you threw the first punch why don't you go first?"    
   
He could see Weasley grinding his teeth, it looked as if he might spontaneously combust. Instead he began to speak in a very forced tone, "I'm... sorry... " his look demanded Draco accept that as a lie "... that I... hit you." He bit off the end of the sentence with a snap and stuck out his jaw in a stubborn determination not to look at all sorry.    
   
Next to him Dumbledore sighed. "Mr Malfoy?"    
   
Draco suddenly realised how to completely get one over on Weasley, stifling a grin he put on his most penitent face. "I don't blame you at all for what happened, Ron," he said in a martyred tone, purposefully using Weasley's first name. "I've treated you dreadfully in the past and I can't apologise enough for what I did, for everything I've done to you and to Hermione..."    
   
"Don't you dare say her name like you care!" Weasley yelled, infuriated.    
   
"Mr Weasley!" said Dumbledore sternly. Then he turned to Draco, "I think that will be quite enough, Mr Malfoy," he told him in a tone that implied he was not born yesterday thank-you-very-much.    
   
Draco nodded his acceptance at being caught at it, it didn't matter if Dumbledore knew since it was Weasley that he was successfully winding up. Childish, yes... but if anyone could bring that out in him it was Weasley.    
   
"Mr Weasley," continued Dumbledore. "You will start your detention tonight with Mr Malfoy, every evening until Monday. Professor McGonagall will meet you after dinner to arrange it.    
   
Weasley glowered and nodded.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco arrived at Defence Against the Dark Arts a little behind Hermione and Ron. Harry was already there, sitting innocuously in the middle of the room with plenty of empty seats around him. He was a little at a loss as to what to do now that Ron was back in classes with them. He couldn't sit with Ron without sitting with Hermione and he couldn't sit with Draco without falling out with Ron. So he had decided to let everyone else make the decisions for him and arrived early.    
   
Ron made a beeline for Harry and Hermione followed uncertainly, behind them Harry could see Draco pause to observe them. Harry smiled at Ron as he sat down next to him and pointedly ignored Hermione who slipped into the seat on the other side of Ron. At the door Draco started to move toward a seat at the back of the room when Seamus Finnegan came in behind him and caught sight of Harry sitting next to Ron.    
   
"Hey, Ron," he called. "What'cher doin' sittin' with the enemy? Didn't Hermione tell you who his new best pal is?"    
   
Ron looked confused and turned to Hermione. "What's he mean."    
   
Seamus came over and stood over Harry. "Go on, Harry. Why don't you go join your new House?" he gestured to where Draco was sitting at the back of the room.    
   
Harry had been half expecting this after the looks he'd got in Transfiguration earlier, but he had hoped his house-mates would keep it to dirty looks. So much for that idea. "Seamus..." he started in a conciliatory tone.    
   
"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Ron butted in.    
   
Before Harry or Hermione could get a word in Seamus had. "Harry's decided he prefers sitting with Malfoy and the Slytherins than with us. Guess he thought Malfoy's attempt to kill you wasn't so awful after all."    
   
Ron turned to Harry. "What's he talking about? You've not been hanging out with that... that..." Words failed him.    
   
From the other side of Ron, Hermione cast him an 'I told you so' look.    
   
Harry tried to calm things down and promptly made things worse. "He didn't mean what happened, it was just an accident..."    
   
"An accident!" roared Ron.    
   
"It's not like you didn't punch him first," retorted Harry before he could think better of it.    
   
Hermione grabbed Ron by the arm, afraid he might punch Harry next. "Please," she whispered. "Don't fight. Can't you just not fight about it?"    
   
Harry stood there awkwardly. "I don't want to fight," he said. "But I won't stop talking to someone just because Ron doesn't like it. It's... not right."    
   
"Harry, please," pleaded Hermione.    
   
"No," he said stubbornly.    
   
"Then I think you better find somewhere else to sit," said Ron coldly. "Because I don't hang out with Slytherins or their friends."    
   
"Ron, don't be..." Harry tried.    
   
"I mean it," he said and turned his back on Harry.    
   
"You heard him," added Seamus. "Go sit with Malfoy."    
   
Harry picked up his bag and went quietly to the empty seat next to Draco, trying not to let it show that he really felt like crying. Even when half the school had thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, even when he and Ron fell out over the Tri-Wizard championship, his own house-mates had never been so outright cold to him. And it was so stupid, just because Draco was a Slytherin. He sat down and surreptitiously rubbed at his eye with the hem of his sleeve. "Don't say it," he said to Draco as he felt the other boy turn to him.    
   
"I didn't think I needed to. You are an idiot though."    
   
"I know. Let's just..."    
   
"Not talk about it," finished Draco.    
   
They spent the rest of the class pretty silently.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Wednesday 1st October    
   
Harry spent the next day in a deep funk. He sat at the Slytherin table for all his meals, Draco was a small comfort for the way most of his house was acting toward him. You would have thought he'd walked into class with a Dark Mark on his arm and showed them all a signed contract selling his soul to Voldemort. He semi-made up with Hermione in Spell Creation since she at least thought he was just misguided rather than evil incarnate and was logical enough to understand where he was coming from even if she didn't agree with him. Plus this added stress seemed to have convinced her to stop bringing up her theories as to his sexuality. A very small blessing.    
   
That afternoon he went to visit Hagrid in his free periods so he could explain to him why things had been so strained in Care of Magical Creatures that morning. He wasn't exactly understanding, but at least he wasn't going to fall out with him over it... though there had been a few tearful moments over Buckbeak.    
   
At dinner Draco told him that Hermione seemed to be lightening up a bit. She had spoken to him in History and Astronomy to ask him about what was going on.    
   
"What did you say?"    
   
"I told her that you were an idiot and that you were far too stubborn to back out of this now. She seemed to agree."    
   
"I don't know whether to be pleased the two of you are speaking or pissed off that you're taking the opportunity to slag me off."    
   
"If it makes you feel any better we agreed that Weasley was a stubborn idiot too."    
   
"Hermione said Ron was being an idiot?"    
   
"Well... not in so many words. But it was implied."    
   
"Hmmm, you're not just making that up to make me feel better are you?"    
   
"I swear on... um... something important anyway... that Granger implied Weasley was an idiot."    
   
"Don't suppose she said Seamus was an idiot too did she?"    
   
"Not as such, but it goes without saying."    
   
"Hmph. Looking forward to detention tonight?" Harry asked, deciding to spread the misery out a bit.    
   
"Very funny."    
   
"What're you doing anyway?"    
   
"Filing in the library," Draco answered. "So I guess I'll end up doing most of the work since Weasley probably can't read without Granger to help him with the big words."    
   
Harry stifled a snort of laughter. "Cut it out. Just cause he's being an asshole doesn't mean he's not still my friend."    
   
"Ever the loyal Gryffindor."    
   
"I thought it was the Hufflepuffs that were loyal."    
   
"Nah, you're getting loyal confused with boring."    
   
"Is there anyone you actually like?"    
   
"Aside from you, you mean?"    
   
Harry felt a sudden flush across his cheeks and lowered his head to his food to hide it. "Yeah, well, who doesn't like me. I'm so charming after all."    
   
"And with those boyish good looks," Draco remarked. "Who could resist."    
   
Harry blushed even more, was Draco flirting with him? Oh Merlin, did he want him to be?    
   
"Are you blushing?" asked Draco.    
   
"No," coughed Harry, choking on a green bean. "I'm suffocating."    
   
"Oh, really," said Draco in exasperation and whacked him hard on the back. "Don't you think that's taking modesty a little too far?"    
   
Harry recovered. "You seem in an awfully good mood today."    
   
Draco shrugged. "Life's too short to waste time being morose about things that you can't change. My new philosophy is grin and ignore it, maybe it'll go away."    
   
"Do you think it'll work?"    
   
"Probably not, but I'm sticking with it anyway."    
   
"So you're going to be shiny, happy Malfoy."    
   
Draco grimaced. "Let's not rush things. How about off-white, mildly-amused Malfoy."    
   
"Okay, but only if I get to be dull grey, slightly-sulky Potter."    
   
"We are grey, we stand between the candle and the star," Draco remarked, apropos of nothing.    
   
"You what?" asked Harry.    
   
"You have got to watch Babylon 5, Potter. Write it on the top of your 'Things I Have To Do Before I Die' list."    
   
"What, above lose my virginity and win the Quidditch World Cup?"    
   
"Like either of those are going to happen soon," Draco scoffed.    
   
"Sooner than you could manage," Harry returned.    
   
"In your dreams."    
   
Harry had a sudden flash of what, or rather who, he'd dreamt about last night and went bright red again. "Shut up," he managed lamely.    
   
Draco gave him a funny look but didn't ask him why he was blushing again.    
   
Harry scraped up the last of his potatoes. "So... I'll see you tomorrow. Assuming you make it through detention in one piece."    
   
"See you tomorrow, Potter."    
   
Harry made his escape wondering if there was a potion or charm that made you blush invisibly.    
   
Harry spent that evening alone... again. The only person in his house that was still speaking to him was Hermione and she was studying which was never any fun. He found himself wishing he and Draco were in the same house so they could hang out together more. It was almost weird how well they seemed to be getting on. Draco was different to be with than Ron and Hermione and his edgier personality rather suited Harry's current disposition. He was quick like Hermione but argumentative like Ron and just the thought that he was the only person Draco really cared to spend time with sent a thrill through him that he hadn't felt before. It made him feel special in a way that all of the fame and attention of previous years never had. All of that had been despite him, Draco didn't give a damn that he was The Boy Who Lived. He just liked him. Draco liked him. He liked Draco. All of a sudden life didn't seem too bad at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herry sneaks Draco into the Gryffindor dormitory.

**Chapter 6 - Thursday 2nd Oct**  
   
As they sat in Dark Arts that morning Harry decided that if he wanted to spend more time with Draco then why the hell shouldn't he.    
   
"Um... I was wondering if maybe we could look over our Potions stuff for tomorrow later."    
   
"I suppose, I've got detention till half eight though."    
   
"After that."    
   
"Sure, why not. You want to meet in the Library?"    
   
"I hate working in the Library, Madame Pince is always telling me to be quiet. Why don't you come up to Gryffindor Tower?"    
   
"What? Are you insane?"    
   
"Come on, we're friends. Why shouldn't you hang out with me. No-one will say anything."    
   
"Of course not, they'll be too busy spitting us and roasting us over the fire to talk to us."    
   
"Okay, true. Look why don't you meet me outside the Great Hall at half eight, I'll bring my invisibility cloak and you can put it on and follow me up to my dormitory."    
   
Somewhat curious as to why Harry was so intent on getting him into Gryffindor Tower, and confident in his ability to handle himself should things turn nasty, Draco shrugged. "All right then, why not." Besides he'd always wanted a shot of an invisibility cloak, he wondered where Harry had gotten hold of one.    
   
"Cool. I'll see you at lunch then," said Harry, cheerfully.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
At a little after half eight Draco met up with Harry.    
   
"Are you sure this is a good idea," he asked as Harry handed him a shimmering silver cloak. "If Weasley finds out they'll be cleaning us out of the carpet for years."    
   
"Just put the cloak on and follow me, quietly. We're grinning and ignoring reality, remember. Everything will be fine."    
   
Draco threw the cloak over himself. "I don't think ignoring him will make Weasley go away."    
   
"Shhh." Harry started towards the stairs.    
   
Draco followed after him. "Am I really invisible?" he asked.    
   
"Yes. Shhh."    
   
"Cool." He followed Harry silently up to a painting of a very fat woman in an ugly pink dress.    
   
"Frogs legs," said Harry and the painting swung aside to reveal an entrance into a cheerily lit room full of laughing people. Who instantly fell silent when they saw Harry step through. He stood and glared them down for a moment as he gave Draco time to follow him into the room then he closed the door and headed straight for the stairs.    
   
Draco followed closely behind him trying not to bump into anyone while studying the room and the people in it. It was a similar size to the Slytherin common room but the ceiling was higher making it more airy and the red and gold decoration made it seem friendlier. Although the atmosphere being given off in Harry's direction did a lot to overcome that. Chilly was definitely the word despite the roaring fire. He could see Weasley sitting with his brothers, Finnegan and Thomas and cast silent insults in their direction not so much for himself but on Harry's behalf. He didn't give a toss what they thought of him but Harry did and they were supposed to be his friends but they were treating him like dirt just for having a friend they didn't approve of. Assholes. So much for the vaunted Gryffindors, just as petty as the Slytherins were. He followed Harry up the stairs and heard the murmur of conversations starting again behind them. He wasn't really paying attention as they got to the top of the stairs and not noticing that Harry had stopped he walked right into him and the cloak slipped in his grasp, sliding half off his head. He quickly caught it and pulled it back but it was too late, a gasp from the person next to Harry told him he'd been spotted. It was Hermione.    
   
Harry quickly covered her mouth with his hand and pushed her around the corridor hissing, "Shh."    
   
He let her go and she straightened up. "What are you doing bringing him up here?" she whispered.    
   
"Please don't tell anyone. I just... I just wanted someone to hang out with for a bit. You understand don't you?"    
   
Hermione sighed. "This is such a bad idea, Harry, but I've given up on telling you that. I won't tell anyone I saw him, just ... be careful." With that she walked past them and continued down the stairs.    
   
He followed Harry on down the corridor into a dormitory with five beds. It was empty and Draco pulled off the cloak. "Well that was.... stressful." He glanced at the door. "Aren't you worried someone might come up?"    
   
"We can sit on the bed, I'll pull the curtains. No-one's talking to me so they won't bother us and I have silencing charms on the curtains so they won't hear us talking. No-one will know you're here."    
   
"Except Hermione," Draco pointed out.    
   
"Well, yeah. But it could've been worse."    
   
"Don't remind me, I still can't believe I let you talk me into this." Draco threw himself onto the bed and gestured to Harry to sit down and pull the curtains before it did get any worse.    
   
Harry did so and used his wand to light up the dark space. "So, what are we doing in Potions tomorrow?" He asked casually, ignoring the shiver that ran through him at the whole concept of where he was and who was with him.    
   
"Snape's planning a surprise test... potion identification by colour and smell. He rather hinted that if we identified a potion wrong he'd make us drink it so we wouldn't forget next time."    
   
"Oh, no. The man is a complete sadist. I still can't believe he's on our side."    
   
"How do you know he is?"    
   
Harry smiled. "You'd be surprised what I know."    
   
"Fine, be like that. Just when I was going to reveal all my secrets."    
   
"The day you reveal all your secrets I'll willingly drink anything Snape hands me."    
   
"You'd need a good strong drink if I told you all my secrets," Draco muttered darkly.    
   
Harry studied him a moment then burst out with, "What the hell happened to you over the summer? You keep hinting and hinting like you want to talk about it but every time I ask you completely shut down. Why don't you just cut it out and bloody tell me!"    
   
Draco looked shocked at his obvious irritation. He opened his mouth as if to speak then shut it again. Then he turned away to study the inside of the curtains. "I can't, Potter. You're right, I want to. But I can't."    
   
"Why not? I thought you trusted me? I thought you wanted us to be friends?" said Harry sulkily.    
   
Harry's words cut him. "Oh, stop being such a child. This isn't about you... or not exactly. I just... I'm not ready to talk about it yet. I haven't quite decided what it all means."    
   
"You don't need to know what something means to talk about it. Just tell me, maybe I can help you figure out what it means."    
   
"Or maybe you can get all riled up and..."    
   
"What?"    
   
"Whatever... fine. You want to know what happened to me this summer?"    
   
"Yes!" said Harry, exasperated and hopeful.    
   
"Fine. Then I'll tell you."    
   
As he related a very shortened and highly edited version of his summer to Harry he replayed in his mind the day it had all started...    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
When he walked through the door it was as if time had slowed down. He could see the tall, dark figure facing away from him and all of a sudden he desperately didn't want to look into Lord Voldemort's face. All of his excitement dried up and shrivelled into a ball of fear. He felt like he was going to throw up. As the door closed behind him he came to a stop, his feet refusing to take him any closer to the man... thing... before him.    
   
Voldemort did not turn to face him.    
   
"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort said. Slowly, gratingly. Neither a question nor a statement. "Your father is a very loyal servant to me. He tells me you shall be too. He tells me you believe in our cause."    
   
Suddenly Voldemort whirled around and fixed him in an unblinking stare. Draco fell back against the heavy wooden door, shaking and dizzy with fear and disgust.    
   
"Do you?"    
   
Draco couldn't think never mind speak, this was wrong. This was all wrong. The very atmosphere in the room felt like poison against his skin. This wasn't a man in front of him, this was a monster. How could you follow this, how could you want to become like this? This was insane.    
   
"Speak to me, boy. Give me your loyalty or I shall kill you where you stand," the monster hissed.    
   
Draco suddenly realised the danger he was in. Kicking his mind back into gear he tried to pull himself together.    
   
"M...my Lord," he croaked past dry lips. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, trying to summon up some of his old confidence. "I... was simply awed by your presence."    
   
"Indeed, indeed. It is not everyday one stands before such power as mine. And every day I grow stronger. Every day my followers become more numerous. Are you ready, Draco Malfoy? Ready to pledge yourself to my cause, to me?"    
   
Draco battled the urge to pass out. "I have looked forward to joining you ever since my father told me about you," he said, almost gagging at the truth of the statement. He swore to himself that he would never, ever listen to his father again.    
   
"Ah, yes. I should have known you would be eager. The Malfoy's have always been loyal to the true wizarding ways. Good blood. Pure blood."    
   
He eyed Draco in a way that brought his gorge even higher. He had to get out of here before his body betrayed him.    
   
"Give me your arm, boy,"    
   
"What?"    
   
"I shall bestow upon you my mark and we shall be bound together. Brothers in arms," Voldemort hissed.    
   
"Oh, right. I.... of course I would love to but..." Draco though faster than he ever had in his life. "...for the cause. My position at Hogwarts. There's so much I can do there for the cause. To help you. If I carry the Dark Mark... someone could notice and then I'd be useless to you. I'd have to leave."    
   
Voldemort stared at him silently and Draco tried not to hold his breath. Could he see through him? He tried to think like he had before he'd walked into this room in case Voldemort was looking inside his head.    
   
Finally Voldemort reached out a hand and ran a claw-like finger down Draco's cheek in a perverse kind of caress. "Yes... Hogwarts. Tell me, do you know Harry Potter. Are you... close to him?"    
   
Draco swallowed, trying not to make a face at the foetid breath that washed over his face. "I know Potter, he's in my year."    
   
"Indeed. Yes." Voldemort seemed thoughtful. "Yes... you could be useful. Hogwarts can be so... inaccessible. Dumbledore..." he said the name with distaste. "My mark would single you out, without it you could remain unnoticed. Do my work, find their secrets. Yes, good."    
   
Draco almost fainted with relief.    
   
"But still I require a token of loyalty." Voldemort drew closer still, his hand still holding Draco's face. He licked his thin lips with a purple, slimy tongue. So close now that their noses almost touched. "And perhaps... a taste."    
   
All Draco could think was, _"No, Gods no, this isn't happening, please this isn't happening."_  
   
Voldemort pushed Draco's head to the side, coming closer, his other hand gripping Draco's arm like a vice. He seemed to be smelling him.    
   
"Such pure blood, I can smell it." He pulled back again to look into Draco's eyes, there was an incredible hunger in his gaze. "I can always tell you know."    
   
The hand on his jaw ran down his neck, pushing his robes aside and finally coming to rest over his heart against the bare skin of his chest. "So beautiful."    
   
Draco was frozen now, like a deer in headlights, focussing only on breathing and trying to keep his body from shaking.    
   
"Beautiful," Voldemort hissed again.    
   
Then with a slash of movement a sharp pain shot through Draco's body and he stared down in horror at the blood welling from the jagged cut on his chest. He looked away again, screwing his eyes shut as Voldemort bent down to the wound and with one long lick of his serpentine tongue, gathered the spilling blood into his mouth.    
   
Then he was gone, his hands no longer pressing Draco to the hard wooden door. Draco fought to keep his knees from buckling as he opened his eyes. Voldemort was back where he had stood before, his back to Draco.    
   
"I shall arrange a suitable test of your loyalties," he said distantly. "You may leave."    
   
Draco stared for a moment in shock and then his body finally unfroze and fumbling at the door he let himself out.    
   
Outside, his father stepped forward, his face nervous but betraying pride. However Draco ran straight past him, not pausing or even glancing his way and didn't stop until he was outside the castle where he fell retching into the long grass. The sun shone warm and uncaring on his back as he threw up.    
   
He sat back as his father strode out the door behind him looking worried and fearful. He spotted Draco sitting on the grass and approached him.    
   
"Draco! What are you doing? You didn't... what happened?"    
   
Draco realised with a pain that shot right to his core that it wasn't over. He wasn't done pretending. He pulled himself to his feet and turned to face his father, forcing a faint smile onto his face.    
   
"Father. I'm... sorry, I guess I was just a little over-excited. After all I've been waiting for this my whole life."    
   
His father relaxed noticeably. "Then he accepted you, you swore loyalty to him? Let me see."    
   
Draco's hand instinctively covered the spot under his robe where blood still oozed down his chest, but it was his arm that his father was reaching for. He tugged his sleeve up to reveal only unmarked skin.    
   
"I don't understand, didn't he gift you with his mark? You didn't run out on him did you?"    
   
"No! No. I didn't leave till he said I could, father. He wants me to work undercover for him at Hogwarts, he though the Mark might give me away."    
   
His father looked delighted that Voldemort was placing his trust in Draco.    
   
"He said.... he said he would arrange a test for me, instead of the Mark. Do you..." he fought to keep the quaver of fear out of his voice. "Do you know what he meant?"    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
When he had finished Harry regarded him in silence for a moment then said, "You met Voldemort?"    
   
"Yes," answered Malfoy simply.    
   
"But you didn't join him?"    
   
"No."    
   
"But your father..."    
   
"Is a Death-Eater, as you knew already. One of Voldemort's favourites." There was a strange emphasis, almost a shudder, on the word favourite that Harry couldn't interpret.    
   
"And he thinks you're going to help him? What are you supposed to be doing?"    
   
"Feeding him information, getting close to you... he hinted that there was more. He has a plan but he hasn't told me what it is, all I know is it involves you."    
   
Harry shuddered. "Why does everything always have to involve me?"    
   
Draco didn't answer.    
   
Harry looked up at him. "Aren't you worried that I might think you're just doing what you've been told? Getting close to me as ordered."    
   
Draco looked surprised. "I thought... I thought, since we're friends now... I mean..."    
   
"That I would trust you?"    
   
"Isn't that how it's supposed to work? I mean I'm pretty new at this friend thing but..." Draco seemed a little panicked that he'd got it wrong.    
   
"In theory, yes. That's how it works."    
   
Draco seemed to grab hold of his emotions. "In theory, I see." He opened the curtains and started for the door. "I'll get out of here then."    
   
"Malfoy, wait!"    
   
Draco paused with one hand on the doorknob.    
   
"Don't just run off. I didn't mean... I'm not saying I don't trust you. I'm just... when it comes to Voldemort I don't leave anything to chance. It's too important, he's too dangerous." Draco came back over to the bed and Harry quickly shut up the curtains again.    
   
"You've met him too," Draco said finally. "You must understand what I mean. I could never follow that, I could never look up to that or believe in that. Everything I've said in the past was just empty words, I had no idea what I was talking about. I'd never even seen a dead body before this summer. I was just a kid, Harry. A stupid, arrogant, selfish kid!"    
   
Harry stared at him in amazement.    
   
"What is it?"    
   
"You called me Harry, you never call me Harry."    
   
"Oh, um... sorry?"    
   
"Don't be, it's... fine. It just caught me by surprise." Harry was finding it hard to focus on the conversation, all he could hear was that intense and slightly pleading 'Harry'.    
   
Draco was still on track however. "If you need more I could ... I could help you. I could tell Dumbledore what I know about Voldemort's plans..."    
   
"You should, we need all the help we can get and maybe he can help you. Keep you safe from them if they figure out you're not on their side."    
   
"I guess. Not tonight, though. I don't know Dumbledore like you, I'm not ready to tell him this stuff yet."    
   
"We can go together, we could talk to him tomorrow after breakfast. I have a free period."    
   
"I've got Transfiguration."    
   
"Then after dinner."    
   
"I don't know, I have detention. I have to see him on Monday anyway, can't we do it then?"    
   
"I suppose."    
   
"But I'm not telling him everything that happened, it's none of his business. I'll tell him whatever might be useful but this is not going to be an essay on 'What Draco Malfoy Did On His Summer Holidays' understand?"    
   
"It'll be fine. Dumbledore's great, you'll see. Don't worry about it."    
   
Draco lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Fine, Monday then."    
   
For a long time they sat in silence and Harry just watched Draco stare into space. He suddenly became obsessed with one thought. A niggle, an itch, a desire, an idea... it was stupid, it was completely against the private code of what boys do and don't do with one another. Eventually he couldn't take it any more and said nervously, "Malfoy... can I ask you something else? Sort of a favour."    
   
"There's more?" replied Draco. "This friend stuff is harder than I thought."    
   
To his surprise Harry flushed red at this. "It's not serious... I mean it's not anything to worry about. It's just.... personal." He still wasn't entirely sure what he was going to ask.    
   
Draco's flippancy ceased at that, he wasn't good at personal. He'd already told Harry far more about himself than he was comfortable with. "Well, I suppose you can ask," he answered. "But I can't promise you an answer."    
   
"Um, right. Maybe this isn't such a good idea..."    
   
"Well you may as well ask at least, what is it?" Draco was getting nervous, worried that Harry suspected he was holding back information. He didn't want to talk about his summer any more and he'd die before he told Harry everything that Lord Voldemort had done to him or that he'd done.    
   
"Merlin this is... I just... I wanted to know if... maybe...."    
   
"What?"    
   
Suddenly Harry blurted out, "If you would mind if I kissed you."    
   
Draco stared at Harry in shock, all thoughts of Voldemort completely blown away. "What?"    
   
Harry was bright red and refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm not gay or anything it's just that I thought if I tried it I'd get it out of my system and then I could stop thinking about it. You know. It's just that I've no idea what it'd be like and that makes me think about it all the time and if I knew it wouldn't be anything special any more and..." Harry seemed to run out of steam about there and peered up from under his eyelashes to see what Draco's reaction was. When he saw Draco's shell shocked expression he started to panic. "Please don't tell anyone I said that. I didn't mean... forget it! It was stupid. I think the stress is getting to me or something and Hermione seems to think I'm gay and I'm completely not but she keeps wanting to talk about it and I thought if I kissed you... and of course I wouldn't really like it cause I'm not gay... and then I could tell Hermione I didn't like it and maybe she'd shut up about my sexuality for five minutes..."    
   
"Harry!" Draco broke into his frantic rambling. "Just... stop talking for a minute. Please."    
   
Harry did as he was told and looked up at Draco out of terrified eyes, twisting his hands nervously.    
   
"Granger thinks you're gay? That's what you were arguing about before?"    
   
Harry nodded slightly.    
   
"But you're not?"    
   
Harry shook his head definitely.    
   
"And you want to kiss me to prove to Granger that you're not gay?"    
   
There was no movement to answer that.    
   
Draco thought about the request for a moment. He wondered what it would be like to kiss someone voluntarily. To kiss someone as ... human? nice? Kissing wasn't something that had good memories for him, all he had was ugly old grandmothers and frightening aunts who always seemed to want to smear their lipstick on his cheeks. That and other, darker, memories that made him feel sick just to touch on. But that wasn't kissing, that was something that deserved an ugly, twisted name to go with the ugly, twisted feelings it engendered in him. He suddenly, desperately wanted something clean and fresh and innocent to cover up the dark stain inside him.    
   
Without any further thought he leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips to Harry's. Soft. So different. Closing his eyes he reached up his hand to touch Harry's cheek and felt Harry do the same, his hand trembling slightly, his fingers gentle and slightly damp with nervous sweat as they stroked along his cheekbone. He could feel Harry's breath against his face as they moved slightly, exploring the velvet sensation of lip running against lip. Then Harry broke the kiss, but before Draco could react he began to lay a pattern of soft kisses across his face, over his cheeks and brow, his eyelids, their cheeks rubbed together as Harry breathed in the scent of his hair. Draco had never felt anything like this, it made him feel fragile. To be touched so lightly.    
   
And then Harry's mouth was back over his and now it was more urgent, the contact harder. Harry's arms were snaking around his back to pull him closer. A tongue flicked out to run over his lips but suddenly Draco's body was tense, his lips dry and pulling away into a tight line. All he could feel was hard wood behind his back, fear and sickness pouring through his body from deep inside. He pushed Harry away from him.    
   
"Stop it!"    
   
"What?" Now it was Harry's turn to look bewildered. "I thought... you kissed me first."    
   
Draco desperately pulled his emotions around him. "You asked me to! To prove you weren't gay, remember? If you're not then what the fuck was all that about? Just... stay away from me. I'm not like you, I don't want... that."    
   
Then Draco was gone.    
   
Harry stared after him in horror. What had he done? What had he been thinking?    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Friday 3rd Oct**    
   
That next day was sheer hell. What if Malfoy told everyone what had happened? What if everyone guessed? He hadn't taken the invisibility cloak, everyone must have seen him leave. He'd felt too sick with fear and humiliation to go down for breakfast. Then two hours of divination had felt like two years, dreading lunchtime and avoiding looking at anyone. Unfortunately Professor Trelawny decided to demonstrate tarot reading on him. As usual his future was decidedly bleak, apparently he was going to be stabbed in the back by someone who had broken his heart and then throw himself out of a very tall tower. For the first time in a couple of years Harry was horribly worried she might actually be right.    
   
He couldn't avoid lunch, but when he got there Draco wasn't about. He sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, told Hermione he was really hungry cause he missed breakfast and spent the entire time stuffing himself with food to avoid answering the questions he could see in her eyes. After lunch was his most dreaded class, triple Potions with the Slytherins. He'd felt sick already but all the food he'd shovelled down his throat at lunch now seemed to be making a bid for freedom as he walked down the stairs.    
   
When he arrived Draco was sitting with one of the other Slytherins. However there was at least no sign of a return to previous behaviour. He didn't look around when Harry came in, there was no sniggering from the Slytherins.    
   
Harry spent a tense and unproductive lesson trying to decide whether to try and talk to Draco about what had happened after class. He decided he ought to say something, apologise, or at the least beg him not to mention it to anyone. After all they were supposed to go and see Dumbledore together on Monday and that was important, Draco might have vital information about Voldemort. Maybe they could put it behind them and go back to the way it had been before he'd tried to stick his tongue down Draco's throat... when he put it that way it didn't sound very likely.    
   
Finally class was over, Harry had failed the surprise test miserably, but thankfully Snape hadn't made him drink the potion in question.    
   
Harry took a deep breath and called after Draco as he walked away down the corridor. "Malfoy!"    
   
"What is it, Potter," Draco drawled in something approaching his old way.    
   
It was enough to give Harry pause but still he continued, "Can I talk to you for a minute." The 'in private' was implied.    
   
Draco studied him a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugged and said, "I suppose you can."    
   
Harry led him into a nearby hallway that didn't seem to go anywhere important and began his carefully prepared speech. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry, about what happened yesterday. I didn't..."    
   
"No, wait." Draco stopped him with a hand on his arm, he looked strangely relieved. "I'm sorry."    
   
"What?"    
   
"I over-reacted. It was stupid. I just... I can't explain why. It wasn't your fault, it was me, and I don't want you thinking you did anything wrong."    
   
Harry still hadn't quite got used to Draco's new-found ability to apologise. "But... "    
   
"Just don't worry about it, okay?"    
   
"I... yeah. Okay then." Relief was sweeping through Harry. Everything was going to be okay, he had no idea how, but it was.    
   
"So, um... do you still want to hang out with me? Cause this would be an ideal excuse to give in and go make up with Weasley."    
   
"Of course I still want to hang out with you. Did you make it out of the common room okay last night? You forgot the invisibility cloak."    
   
"Yeah, I was in a bit of a hurry at the time. I think I was moving so fast they weren't sure if they were seeing things or not. So... I'll see you at dinner then?"    
   
"Yup, see you in half an hour." Harry had to restrain himself from skipping as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower to get ready for dinner.     
In the corridor Draco leant against the cold stone wall and let out an immense sigh of relief. He had been terrified he had ruined things with Harry. He had to get past this, he had to get this summer out of his head somehow before it poisoned him completely. He had to stay friends with Harry. Who else would be better able to protect him from Voldemort than the boy who had escaped from him three times... and that was three times more than anybody else could claim. And if needs required it he would be right where Voldemort wanted him, just like a good little Death-Eater. Ready to do his duty to save his own skin, if it came down to it... he hoped it wouldn't. But inside he was afraid that it would. He couldn't stand up to Voldemort, he knew that... he couldn't even stand up to his own father. He felt sick inside again, appalled at his own cowardice and yet unable to deny the hold his fear had on him. He might be a coward but at least he wouldn't lie to himself. He knew what he wanted, what he would like to happen, but he also knew who he was. He was a Slytherin, he could never be like Harry.    
   
But he could hope.    
   
And he could go with Harry to talk to Dumbledore on Monday.    
   
 -----------------------  
   
In the common room Harry was cornered by Hermione.    
   
"What's going on with you," she asked under her breath. "What happened with Malfoy last night? You wouldn't talk to me at lunch, you spent Potions sitting on your own looking like you were awaiting your execution and now you look like Christmas came early!"    
   
"Hermione will you quit trying to psycho-analyse me, it's really annoying."    
   
"I just want to know what's going on. Talking to him in class and at meals is one thing but you smuggle him up to your dormitory in the middle of the night..."    
   
"It was only about nine!"    
   
"...and then an hour later he comes flying down the stairs like he's being chased by Fluffy. What the hell is going on between you two?"    
   
"Nothing! We're just friends. Will you quit with this gay stuff!"    
   
"I never said.... Oh!" Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. "Oh my!"    
   
"What?"    
   
"You and Malfoy?"    
   
"What? No!" But Harry could see that his answer to the question Hermione hadn't even been thinking had convinced her. "I'm not gay!" he protested.    
   
Hermione laid her hand on his shoulder in what she obviously intended to be a comforting gesture. "Oh, Harry, I understand. No wonder... this must have been so hard on you."    
   
He shrugged it off and stood up. "I'm not!" he shouted furiously and ran out the room.    
   
He went up to the dormitory and paced furiously. _"Why can't she just leave it alone, it's none of her damn business."_ But really he should have known better than to ask Draco into the Gryffindor Tower. He had gotten carried away with the whole being friends thing working out so well, this whole thing was seriously fucking with his judgement. He wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now. Maybe he should just drop the whole thing, forget Malfoy. Go back to life as usual. I mean just cause he had some stupid crush, which was just a phase and was bound to wear off, didn't mean he and Malfoy had to be friends. Malfoy was probably just going through some stupid phase too with this whole being nice thing. Except that he'd told Harry things that Harry knew he'd never told anyone else and a part of him just couldn't bear the thought of telling him to leave him alone.    
   
So fifteen minutes later Harry was sitting in the Great Hall with Draco, back at the Slytherin table where he was beginning to feel he belonged.    
   
Hermione looked at him sympathetically but the rest of Gryffindor table was buzzing in a way he'd been too caught up to notice at lunch.    
   
"I wonder what they're saying about me being in your room last night," Draco said under his breath.    
   
"I don't want to think about it," Harry muttered back. He wondered if there would ever be a year at this school that didn't involve everyone staring at him and talking about him. First year the Norbert Exchange leading to them losing all of Gryffindor's points, second year the Parsletongue Debacle making everyone think he was the Heir of Slytherin, third year the Trelawny Prophesy and the constant fainting, fourth year the Tri-Wizard Thing when everyone thought he'd put his name in and now this. The Draco Malfoy Affair. Oh Merlin, the Draco Malfoy *Affair*? He had to stop talking to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 - Friday 3rd Oct**  
  
Draco went to bed happier than he had the night before but still worried, not about reality but about where he would find himself after he fell asleep. He had experienced terrible nightmares the night before after running out on Harry. All the memories that had been stirred by what had happened mixed with the fear that Harry would be angry with him. He had thought a lot about what had happened last night. Kissing Harry, at first, had been... wonderful. Like nothing else he could remember. The fear had only started when Harry had become more aggressive. He wondered if he could avoid that by staying the aggressor, because he didn't want to never do that again. He wouldn't let Voldemort steal that from him too.  
  
So Harry's big secret was revealed, trust him to be so worked up over something so silly. He could face Voldemort and walk away but he couldn't come out to his closest friends.  
  
But more than that... Harry had chosen him. Not Weasley, not Finnegan, not some unattainable 7th year or whoever. Him... Harry wanted him. And this wasn't the potion talking, he had gone over every word he had said to Harry with a fine toothcomb looking for some slip of the tongue that might have led to Harry being persuaded he had a crush on him when he didn't. There was nothing. And that meant he was right, the potion didn't matter, Harry would have come around on his own. All he'd done was make it easier for him. All this stuff with the other Gryffindors wasn't his fault, it would have happened anyway. Because Harry wanted him.  
  
Draco felt very self-satisfied at this and threw a 'So there!' in the direction of an imaginary Ron Weasley. This time he chose me.  
  
He tossed and turned, lonely without Harry to chat to about silly inconsequential things, scared to let himself sleep just in case, but finally he couldn't stay awake any longer and he slipped into sleep...  
  
He was wandering through the corridors of Hogwarts, it was dark and dusty and he couldn't quite figure out where he was. He had to find the portrait of the fat pink lady, he had to find Harry. If he didn't find Harry something bad was going to happen... he was sure of it.  
  
He tried to go faster, pushing at locked doors, looking out windows to try and get his bearings... but there didn't seem to be anything outside. The floor seemed awfully slippery, he kept falling over. He had a horrible feeling that something might be behind him. Something terrible.  
  
He scrambled up off the floor but just as he got to his feet he heard that voice.  
  
"Draco," it whispered. "Where are you going?"  
  
He froze, not turning around. "Nowhere," he said.  
  
"I was just going to kill Potter, would you like to watch?"  
  
Draco started to cry. "No," he whispered. "I'm going out."  
  
"What a shame. I hope you were going to say goodbye first." There was a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, massaging. It pulled him around and suddenly there was heavy wood at his back.  
  
_"No, no, no..."_ He could feel the grain of it through his shirt. Scratched at it with his fingers. Why couldn't he close his eyes? Why couldn't he just scream and scream and scream...  
  
The hands were on his shoulders, pressing him back. Those eyes looking into him, through him, over him like he was a piece of meat. "Pretty," the voice hissed. "Pure," it was so close.  
  
He could smell him again, rotting meat. The hands on his face to stop him turning away...  
  
_"No, no, no, no, no..."_  
  
"Don't touch me!" Draco screamed, bolting upright as he awoke. His hands shot out in front of him to ward off the phantoms in his mind. For a moment he sat panting then he leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom to throw up.  
  
He sat on the cold floor of the bathroom drinking water to ease his throat and stared at nothing until the sun rose.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Saturday 4th Oct**  
  
Draco waited at the Slytherin table for Harry, sipping at tea and feeling like death warmed over.  
  
When Harry staggered in he didn't look any better. He stumbled over to the table like a zombie and buried his head in his arms. "Morning," he mumbled.  
  
"Sleep well?" asked Draco sarcastically.  
  
"I hate you," mumbled Harry.  
  
"Don't be melodramatic, your insomnia is not my fault. It's not like I got any sleep either or are you too far gone to notice that the bags under my eyes are getting in the way of my spoon? It's ruining my reputation as sexiest boy in school."  
  
"If you were as tired as I am you wouldn't be able to make smart comments."  
  
"I can always make smart comments."  
  
Harry humphed. "So what's keeping you up?"  
  
"Nightmares," Draco answered shortly. "What about you?"  
  
"Life. Ron, Hermione... everything."  
  
"Why don't you just talk to them?"  
  
"Why don't you just stop having nightmares?"  
  
"This school really needs a course on logical arguing. Why don't you just get up and go over to Granger and talk to her? You'd feel better for it."  
  
"Beating my head against a brick wall would make me feel better than trying to talk Hermione out of her delusions. And stop calling her Granger, it's annoying."  
  
Draco shook his head, Granger wasn't the one who was delusional, but he wasn't going to try and push Harry into admitting he was gay. He'd come around eventually, only someone as stubborn as Harry could kiss a guy like that one day and then insist he was straight the next. Perhaps he should suggest to Dumbledore the school start employing a counsellor. He stared down at the toast that he couldn't be bothered eating and contemplated falling asleep right there, sitting next to Harry gave him a pleasant sense of safety that was making his eyelids droop. He looked over at Harry who seemed to be falling asleep too. "Are you going to eat anything?"  
  
"I can't," Harry grunted. "My stomach is asleep."  
  
"Come on then, let's get out of here." He pried himself up and tugged Harry up too.  
  
"Where're we going?" asked Harry, following him out the hall towards the stairs.  
  
"I need a nap and so do you."  
  
"But I can't sleep."  
  
"You seemed to be dropping off a minute ago."  
  
"Well, yeah. But that was different."  
  
"I know, I have a plan."  
  
"It doesn't involve knocking me unconscious with a mallet does it?"  
  
"Only if you don't shut up."  
  
By now they had arrived at the painting of the pink lady.  
  
"Go in and make sure everyone's at breakfast," Draco ordered him.  
  
A few minutes later Harry stuck his head out the portrait hole. "All clear."  
  
Draco stepped through and led Harry back up the stairs to his dormitory. Then he kicked his shoes under the bed, threw himself on top of it and gave a sigh of contentment.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked horrified.  
  
Draco opened his eyes. "I told you we're taking a nap. Now lie down and close the curtains."  
  
"But... but...."  
  
"Now," Draco ordered, he was exhausted and Harry's hang ups were not going to get in the way of him getting a few hours of undisturbed sleep.  
  
Clearly nervous Harry sat on the bed and pulled the curtains around them, tying them securely. In the dark he heard Draco moving around. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Taking my robes off," answered Draco. "I'm not going to sleep in them, they'll get all crumpled. Now lie down and stop talking to me."  
  
Harry began to babble nervously. "I'm not..." _...gay_ "I don't..." _...know what you want._ "Are you..." _...naked? Oh Merlin! Is he?_  
  
Draco sat up. "For Salazar's sake, Harry. Give us some light a minute."  
  
Fumbling with his wand, Harry conjured a light and was both relieved and disappointed to find Draco was wearing a long sleeved top and a pair of jersey boxers.  
  
"Why do you have to make everything into such a production?" Draco asked, exasperated. "Can't you just lie down and we can try and get a bit of sleep."  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry realised he had been over-reacting. "I'm just tired, I can't think straight." He suddenly realised what he had just said and the tiny shock that ran across his face made Draco smile. "I mean..."  
  
Draco reached out and put his hand over Harry's mouth before he could make it worse. With his other hand he undid the front of Harry's robes then took Harry's wand from him and extinguished the light. "Stop thinking about things, take off your robes and lie down. We're just going to sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up."  
  
Harry threw his robes to the end of his bed and let Draco push him down and pull the covers over them. He left a reasonable space between their bodies.  
  
"Go to sleep."  
  
Suddenly Harry found he couldn't seem to do anything else. In moments both of the boys were sleeping peacefully.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Downstairs at the Gryffindor table Hermione was getting heartily sick of the way things were going. After she watched a drained looking Harry follow Malfoy out of the room she turned to Ron and decided enough was enough. She stood up and glowered down at the ringleaders of the 'Harry is the Spawn of Satan' club; Seamus, Ron, Fred and George. In particular she glared at Ron, who cowered a little under her gaze.  
  
"What?" he asked nervously.  
  
"I," she said angrily. "Have had *enough* of *this*!"  
  
"Sit down, Herm," said Ron placatingly. "Enough of what?"  
  
"You know exactly what?" she snapped. "And it is stopping, right now!"  
  
"Hermione," said Seamus. "We can't..."  
  
"You!" she turned on him. "Stay out of this!"  
  
Seamus flinched back. They had never seen Hermione so angry before.  
  
"Now let me get a few things clear. I do not like Malfoy, I do not trust Malfoy. That is not in question. But Harry is my friend and he is your friend... your *best* friend!"  
  
Ron looked like he wanted to say something but was too afraid that Hermione might hurt him if he did.  
  
"What is it?" she prodded him. "Go on say it."  
  
"He... well... it looks to me like Harry has a new best friend," Ron argued.  
  
"Oh, I see. So a person can only have one friend can they?" Hermione said sarcastically. "Or does that rule only apply when that friend is a Slytherin?"  
  
"He's not just a Slytherin, he's a Malfoy!"  
  
"Oh well, that makes all the difference then doesn't it! He's a Malfoy! Just like you're a Weasley and I'm a Mudblood. Isn't that right? And we all know that says it all doesn't it!"  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"You sound just like he used to... but he got over it, grew out if it... whatever. When are you going to grow up? No-one's asking you to like him. Not even Harry expects that. But you can't even be civil! You won't even give your best friend the time of day just because he's friends with someone you don't like! He sits with the Slytherins because he feels more welcome at their table than he does at ours, what the hell does that say about us! It's childish and petty and mean and you're tearing Harry apart and I won't stand for it any more!" Hermione was yelling at the top of her voice by now and the entire room was staring at the confrontation.  
  
"I... I..." Ron seemed to have run out of steam.  
  
"Come on," said Hermione, grabbing him by the arm. "We're going to sort this out right now!"  
  
She pulled Ron out of the Great Hall and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "We're going to go find Harry and you are going to make up with him and that is going to be the end of it."  
  
Ron followed her meekly up the stairs. Right now he'd apologise to Malfoy again if it would make her stop yelling at him.  
  
When they got to the Common Room it was empty, they started up the stairs to the boys dormitory to check there when Hermione suddenly had a terrible thought. _"Malfoy coming dashing down from the boys dorm the other day, Harry and Malfoy leaving the Great Hall together this morning... oh no. What if... "_ "Ron, wait. Maybe he's asleep, we shouldn't disturb him."  
  
But Ron had made up his mind. "Don't be silly, he was awake fifteen minutes ago. It'll be fine." He went into the dorm room with Hermione behind him.  
  
Sure enough the curtains around Harry's bed were closed. "Ron, don't," Hermione squeaked as he undid the curtains and stuck his head in.  
  
There was a long moment in which he just stood there, the curtains hanging half way open. Hermione came up behind him and looked down at the two boys lying asleep on the bed, mostly clothed but tucked under the covers facing one another, their foreheads almost but not quite touching. She looked over at Ron, he looked like he was in shock. She closed the curtains again and pulled him out of the room, closing the door behind them.  
  
Ron dropped down onto the top step of the stairs, his face white as a sheet and his eyes like saucers. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said finally.  
  
"Ron," said Hermione gently. "Don't be like that, I'm sure it's much more innocent than it looked. They still had clothes on, they were just sleeping."  
  
"They had their clothes on?" repeated Ron.  
  
"Of course, didn't you notice?" insisted Hermione, not mentioning that their robes had been lying on top of the covers... meaning they were just in their underwear.  
  
"I dunno, I think I'm going insane. What's going on? What's... oh Merlin’s left ballsack... the other night when Malfoy came tearing through the common room from the dorms... were they? Oh, I'm definitely going to be sick. How could he? With Malfoy!"  
  
"Ron, stop it. I'm sure they haven't done anything. Harry can't even admit he's gay never mind do much of anything about it."  
  
"Harry's gay?"  
  
Ron didn't seem to be processing all of this new information very well. "Ron, listen. Come downstairs, we'll play wizarding chess. That always calms you down." She led him down the stairs.  
  
"Since when was Harry gay?"  
  
"Since always, that's how it works."  
  
"He never said."  
  
"He didn't know, he's in denial. Listen to me, Ron. You can't say anything to anyone about this. Promise me."  
  
"You think I'm going to talk about this? I don't even want to think about this!"  
  
"Ron Weasley, don't be such a homophobe!"  
  
"Hey! I am not!"  
  
Hermione looked at him sternly.  
  
"I'm not! This isn't about that, I mean it's a shock. I had no idea, he always seemed totally revolted by anything like that. But it doesn't matter if he's gay, I'll just get used to it and it'll be fine. But Malfoy! Gay, fine. Sleeping with Malfoy... *definitely* *not* *fine*."  
  
"He's not sleeping with Malfoy... well I mean of course he is, but sleeping sleeping not... *sleeping* sleeping."  
  
"How do you know? For all you know they woke up right after we left and are currently shagging like bunnies!" Ron went green. "Oh, gross. Go and make sure they're not."  
  
"Ron! I'm not going back up there."  
  
"Yes you are. I am not sitting here talking when they might be doing it in the next room. It's disgusting. Go and make sure they're still asleep."  
  
"You are such a big baby," Hermione said exasperated and snuck back up the stairs. She peeped through the curtains at the two sleeping boys and ended up staring at them for a couple of minutes. Malfoy might not have been her ideal choice for Harry to have a crush on but she had to admit they looked very sweet lying there together, it was almost romantic. They looked as if they were holding hands under the covers. She retied the curtains and cast a quick Diversion Charm on them so that if anyone else came up and felt like checking on Harry they would find themselves distracted by other things. When she got back down the stairs Ron had set up the chess board and looked a bit calmer. He looked up at her.  
  
"Still asleep then?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He nodded. "So this is why Harry was so determined to stay friends with Malfoy, he had a crush on him."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"It actually kind of makes sense. I couldn't figure out why he'd choose Malfoy over me."  
  
"He didn't want to have to choose, you made him choose."  
  
"I wanted him to choose me, but I guess I'm glad he didn't. That could've been... awkward."  
  
"To say the least," giggled Hermione, imagining a lovestruck Harry mooning around after Ron.  
  
"It's not funny," said Ron.  
  
"Oh, it is a bit," answered Hermione.  
  
"No, it's not," said Ron seriously. "This isn't just some teen crush, this is Draco Malfoy. As in son of Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eater."  
  
"I know. But..."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"But don't you think that if Dumbledore thought he was dangerous he would have expelled him after he cursed you? Besides, Harry may be a little off his game but he's not stupid. I can't help but think he must have talked to Malfoy about his father, he must trust him for some reason."  
  
"Dumbledore's great but he's still a bit mad and for all we know Malfoy's put some sort of spell on Harry, how do we know this is all on the level?"  
  
"Malfoy doesn't even have a wand, Dumbledore confiscated it... and he's not as mad as he makes out he is."  
  
"I'm just... worried." He looked Hermione in the eyes. "Love can be a funny thing, you don't think things through properly anymore. You can make a lot of mistakes."  
  
Hermione met his gaze feeling a thrill at the obvious double meaning of the conversation. "I know," she answered. "I know exactly what you mean." She reached out and touched the back of his hand lightly.  
  
He smiled at her. "Well then, chess?"  
  
"Right, chess." They settled down to play. A while into the game, which Hermione was unexpectedly winning, she asked him, "So are you going to make up with Harry?"  
  
Ron sighed. "Yes," he told her. "You're right, as usual. Harry's my friend... and while he's clearly gone completely mad that shouldn't change things. So the war is over, okay?"  
  
"You'll talk to the others?"  
  
"I thought I wasn't allowed to."  
  
"Not about that! I just mean, get them to back off. Tell them to keep their opinions on Malfoy to themselves when Harry's about."  
  
"I can get Fred and George to lay off but I can't promise you anything on the Seamus front."  
  
"Just try, this is difficult enough for Harry without having the whole house treating him like a pariah."  
  
"I know. I hate to think how I'd cope with it. Falling for Malfoy? I think I'd jump off the Astronomy Tower."  
  
"Yes, well it's that kind of behaviour we're trying to avoid."  
  
"You don't really think he'd do something like that?"  
  
"No, of course not. Things aren't *that* bad."  
  
"So does this mean Malfoy's gay too? Cause you know I always had my suspicions about him."  
  
"I don't know, I think maybe he's just lonely. I really don't know him very well, I've barely spoken to him except about classes."  
  
"Well whether he is or not we need to put a stop to all this coming and going out of our dorm room. If they want to hang out together they can do it down here where we can keep an eye on them," said Ron sternly.  
  
Hermione began giggling.  
  
"What? I'm serious. It's not on."  
  
"You sound like my father."  
  
"Your father told you to stay out the boys dorm?"  
  
"Actually, yes. We had this incredibly uncomfortable *chat* before I came back to school this year. About how I was getting so grown up. It was awful, I thought I'd die of embarrassment. I swear to God he had exactly the same expression on his face as you did just there." Hermione stopped. "Actually that's a bit disturbing. Don't ever look like that again."  
  
"So what *are* you allowed to do?" asked Ron with a big grin.  
  
Hermione went bright red. "Ron."  
  
"Go on, you can tell me."  
  
"Quit trying to distract me when I'm winning." Hermione moved her knight. "Check."  
  
A few hours later as lunch approached Hermione decided they'd better wake Harry and Malfoy up. If they slept all day they'd never get to sleep tonight. Besides, she was tired of worrying that someone else would catch the two of them together. She and Ron had done the best they could to keep people out of the boys dorm, telling them Harry was asleep. Ron had also had a quiet conversation with his brothers about calling off the feud. He hadn't spoken to Seamus yet cause Seamus hadn't been about.  
  
Hermione left Ron down in the Common Room and went upstairs alone to wake them. She removed the Diversion Charm and untied the curtains. They were still fast asleep, though they seemed to have kicked the blankets off a bit, she could now clearly see that they were holding hands and Harry was in his vest. Boy was Harry not going to react well to her having seen this, maybe she should wake Malfoy first. She reached over and shook Malfoy's shoulder. "Malfoy, wake up."  
  
He twitched a little and seemed to curl closer to Harry.  
  
She shook him again, harder. "I said wake up!"  
  
His eyes opened and he looked at Harry asleep in front of him. "What?"  
  
"Up here, Malfoy."  
  
Malfoy turned round, blinking away his sleep, and saw her standing over them. "Granger? Shit." He tried to sit up but Harry had what seemed to be a death grip on his arms where they were tangled together. "Harry, wake up." He tugged at Harry, freeing one arm so he could roll onto his back and look around the room.  
  
"Don't panic, there's no-one else here."  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Nearly lunch time, I thought you should probably get up now."  
  
"Yeah." He looked down at Harry. "Is he always this hard to wake up?"  
  
"Don't know. It's not something I do very often." She prodded at Harry's shoulder. "Harry, it's time for lunch. Wake up."  
  
Harry rolled over onto his stomach, on top of Malfoy's arm, and muttered something unintelligible.  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"I think it was 'Damn the torpedoes'," answered Malfoy dryly. "Or maybe 'Where are my speedoes'."  
  
"You're very amusing," said Hermione in exasperation. "Now wake him up."  
  
"All right," said Malfoy with a very wicked expression on his face. He pulled the covers back, revealing that Harry was wearing a pair of blue Y-fronts which were slightly riding up one cheek. Hermione blushed. "Wake up, Potter," said Malfoy cheerily, then with a smack that echoed loudly round the room he brought the flat of his hand down hard on Harry's bottom.  
  
Harry almost hit the ceiling he woke up so fast.  
  
Hermione just stood there in shock with her hand over her mouth.  
  
"Ow!" Harry rounded on Malfoy without even noticing her. "That hurt!"  
  
Malfoy was in fits of laughter. "I'm... sorry..." he gasped. "You wouldn't... wake... up... and it was just... so... tempting!"  
  
Harry rubbed at his bottom. "You're such an ass."  
  
"Er..." said Hermione. "Harry?"  
  
He spun around in shock. "Hermione!" He cast his eyes wildly around the room as if expecting the rest of the house to pop up from behind the curtains and tugged a blanket in front of him.  
  
"It's... ah... lunchtime. I thought I better wake you up."  
  
"How did you... did anyone?.... we weren't doing anything!"  
  
Hermione put her hand out placatingly. "I know. Just... I think Malfoy better go now, don't you? Before someone sees him."  
  
Behind Harry Malfoy was putting his robes back on. "Have you seen my socks, Harry?"  
  
Harry just clung to his blanket and stared at Hermione, speechless.  
  
Malfoy found his socks and finished dressing then came round the bed and peered at Harry. He turned to Hermione. "Is he okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," said Harry. "I just... got a bit of a shock."  
  
Malfoy picked up Harry's robes and handed them to him. "Here."  
  
"Thanks." Harry dressed absently under the gaze of two concerned pairs of eyes.  
  
When he was done Hermione said, "There's something I should probably mention."  
  
"What?" asked Malfoy.  
  
"I think maybe Harry should sit down first."  
  
"Oh, no," groaned Harry and sat down. "What now?"  
  
"It's just... after breakfast Ron and I came up here together. I'd talked him into making up with you."  
  
Harry looked up at her in dawning horror.  
  
"I tried to stop him but he opened the curtains."  
  
Harry buried his head in his hands.  
  
"It's not as bad as it sounds," said Hermione.  
  
"Well I'm still alive," commented Malfoy. "So I'd assumed that much."  
  
"He was a bit... surprised."  
  
Malfoy snorted and Hermione cast him a 'will you shut up' look.  
  
"But he's okay, really. He'd already decided to make up with you and he still wants to."  
  
Harry looked up at her with incredulity. "Are you sure he wasn't just humouring you?"  
  
"I swear, Harry. It's okay. He won't say anything to anyone and he told Fred and George to leave you be about sitting with the Slytherins."  
  
Malfoy didn't look any more convinced than Harry. "Are you sure he's not still in shock?" he suggested. "Cause if he is I'd like to go hide before it sinks in."  
  
"I didn't say he wanted to make friends with *you*," said Hermione.  
  
Harry stood up and pulled the invisibility cloak out of his trunk. "Here," he handed it to Malfoy. "You better make yourself scarce and I'll find out what's going on with Ron. Follow us downstairs and Hermione'll let you out. I'll see you at dinner if I don't make lunch, okay?"  
  
"Okay," agreed Malfoy, throwing the cloak over his shoulders. "Good luck." He smiled and covered his head, disappearing completely.  
  
"Come on then," said Harry to Hermione. "Let's go."  
  
Harry let Hermione lead him down the stairs to the common room. When he got there everyone seemed to turn and stare at either him or at Ron who was sitting in front of the fire. He saw Ron's eyes follow Hermione as she went to the portrait hole and stepped outside momentarily. When she came back in he turned back to Harry and they stared at each other across the silent room.  
  
Hermione glared around. "What are you all staring at?"  
  
Everyone immediately went back to what they were doing in a rather false and affected way. They were clearly far more interested in whether Ron and Harry were going to make up.  
  
Harry made his way over to the fire. "Um... Hermione said you wanted to talk to me," he said quietly, trying not to blush. What the hell must Ron think about what he'd seen.  
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "I... uh..."  
  
Hermione poked him in the ribs.  
  
"Wanted to apologise," he blurted out. "I shouldn't have fallen out with you over this, it was silly. Friends again?"  
  
"Oh, well, okay then. I guess."  
  
Ron glanced over at Hermione. "Does he know... that I saw..."  
  
Hermione nodded and Harry and Ron both went bright red.  
  
"I just... ah... wanted to say that it doesn't matter," said Ron. "We'll just ah... leave it at that, right? No need to... talk about it or anything." He looked hopeful.  
  
Harry looked immensely relieved. "Right. We'll just go have lunch then. Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. Great."  
  
They started to leave. Hermione watched them go for a moment shaking her head. "Boys," she muttered. "It's like pulling teeth." Then she followed after them.  
  
There was a moment of awkwardness when they got to the Great Hall. Harry could see Draco was already sitting in their usual spot at the end of the Slytherin table. He caught his eye and Harry stopped in his tracks as did Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Um... I just," said Harry awkwardly. "I'll just be a minute, okay."  
  
"Of course," said Hermione. "We'll save you a space."  
  
Ron just nodded curtly.  
  
Harry made his way over to the Slytherin table. "Hi."  
  
"Hi," said Draco. "All friends again then?"  
  
"Yeah. I guess. I... uh... I'm going to sit with them if that's okay?"  
  
Draco gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You don't need to ask my permission to sit at your own table, Potter."  
  
Harry frowned. "I thought we were done with the surnames thing?"  
  
Draco actually looked surprised. "I didn't do it on purpose, it just came out that way. Besides it's not like you've ever used my first name."  
  
"I haven't?"  
  
Draco shook his head.  
  
"I hadn't realised... I always think of you as Draco now. I hadn't realised I never actually said it. Weird."  
  
Nearby one of the Slytherins called out. "Quit mooning over Malfoy, Potter. It's making me feel sick!"  
  
Harry went red again but managed to yell back, "Sick with jealousy, you mean."  
  
Draco smiled again, but this time it looked more genuine. "Piss off and have your lunch with the Gryffindors, *Potter*. I think I can live without you for an hour or two."  
  
"Fine, *Draco*." Harry was smiling too as he walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down between Hermione and Ron.  
  
He was still getting a few funny looks but no-one was saying anything and Ron was speaking to him again so that would do for now.  
  
He spent an enjoyable lunch but he couldn't seem to stop himself constantly glancing over to where Draco was sitting alone. Finally toward the end of the meal he turned to Ron. "Ron?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I know this probably isn't the time... but I just... I was wondering..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Could Draco sit with us for dinner?"  
  
"What?!" Ron started choking on his food and everyone turned to stare at them again.  
  
_"Damn it,"_ thought Harry. _"Why couldn't I just keep my big mouth shut. Give it a few days. But no... open mouth insert both feet. Idiot."_  
  
Ron recovered himself a bit. "Are you... do you..."  
  
"Ron," said Hermione warningly.  
  
"But Hermione..." he whined.  
  
She simply glared at him.  
  
"Fine," he sulked. "But he's sitting at the end of the table and you and Hermione are sitting between us and I am not going to talk to him! It's bad enough that I've had to spend every evening this week doing detention with the insufferable git."  
  
Harry grinned, having Hermione on your side wasn't too bad after all. "How's that going anyway? The detention," he asked.  
  
Ron shrugged. "Well it's detention, so I can hardly say it's been good... but he's kept his mouth shut mostly. It's been okay... we're always supervised though, in case one of us decides to go for a rematch. Just three more nights to go, for me anyway. Past the half way mark."  
  
When lunch was done Harry caught Draco before he left and told him about dinner.  
  
"He really said it was okay?"  
  
"Well, not in so many words. But sort of."  
  
"Okay then, I guess. I'll come and see how the other half eats. But if anyone flicks their peas at me I'm holding you responsible."  
  
"It's a deal."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 - Saturday 4th Oct cont.**  
   
Draco spent that afternoon studying in the library, his detention didn't leave him as much time for homework as he would like. He was on his way down to his dorm room to put away his things before dinner when an owl swooped through a nearby window and landed on his shoulder. On it's leg was a scroll sealed with the Malfoy crest, another message from his father. He tucked it into his robes and carried on down the stairs followed by the owl which had obviously been instructed to carry back his reply, he didn't open the scroll until he was seated on his bed.    
   
   
Draco,  
        It has been some days since I have heard from you, I am most  
concerned to hear how you are getting along with your new friends.  
        I await your reply.  
                                           Lucius Malfoy  
   
Draco was immediately reminded of the last letter which he had purposefully allowed to slip his mind... 'should things go well inform me immediately, I have a task for you on behalf of our mutual friend.'    
   
He sighed and sat down to compose a short letter before dinner. It looked like he would find out before long what this task was. Whether he liked it or not.    
   
   
Father,  
         All is well at school. Potter and I have become much closer    
over the past few days and even Weasley has been forced to accept that    
I am part of their circle now.    
         I hope this news finds you well.  
                                              Draco  
   
He gave the message to the owl and carried it up the stairs to release it on the way to dinner. He might as well enjoy himself this evening... it didn't look like he had long before he was expected to get down to it. He couldn't imagine anything that his father and Voldemort might ask of him would be enjoyable... or even vaguely tolerable.    
   
He arrived later than he had intended, delayed by his letter writing, to find dinner already served. He walked over to the Gryffindor table feeling strangely exposed and nervous. He berated himself for his weakness, his father's letter had put him on edge again. Since early this week he had been unusually relaxed, actually he could pretty much narrow it down to when Harry had started taking his meals at the Slytherin table. Something about the other boy's presence calmed something inside him... a nervous tension that had been present for so long he wasn't sure where it even came from.    
   
Everyone at the Gryffindor's table was watching him as he sat down at the end of the bench next to Harry.    
   
"You're late," Harry whispered. "I thought you weren't coming."    
   
"And miss all this?" Draco muttered in answer.    
   
Harry poked him in the ribs. "These are my friends remember."    
   
"How could I forget." Draco began to pile food on his plate distractedly.    
   
"What's up with you? You're all in a bad mood again."    
   
"It's nothing, just..."    
   
"What?"    
   
"I don't want to talk about it here. Besides it's not important."    
   
"If it wasn't important you wouldn't mind talking about it here," nagged Harry.    
   
"Don't start being logical now and break the habit of a lifetime," Draco said sarcastically.    
   
"If you're going to be like that I guess I'm just going to have to guess what it is."    
   
"Harry..."    
   
"So... you found out that tonight's detention is hand washing Snape's dirty underwear."    
   
"That was what we did on Wednesday," retorted Draco. "I think Weasley kept a pair as a souvenir."    
   
"Ugh... you did not!"    
   
"Why'd Weasley agree to this anyway?" asked Draco, redirecting the conversation.    
   
Harry shrugged, glancing up the table to where Ron was manfully ignoring the two of them. He seemed to be clutching his cutlery a little tighter than was necessary. "I dunno. He's been a bit odd since this morning, I think he's still in shock. It's kind of like he's found out I've got a terminal disease and he's being extra nice to me before I keel over. He has that strained look."    
"So I'm incurable am I?" asked Draco with a grin.    
   
"Insufferable more like," smiled Harry.    
   
Just then a small glob of mashed potato flew through the air and landed in Draco's hair. Draco's jaw dropped in shock which then turned to irritation. Their gazes flew up the table to where Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were just about falling off the bench with laughter.    
   
"They actually threw food at me!" said Draco. "I always knew you lot were childish but really... what year do they think they're in?" He had wiped away most of it with his napkin but you could still see where it had hit. "This is what it comes to when you're too stupid to come up with a smart remark... throwing food!" He turned to Harry and noticed that he looked absolutely furious. "Hey," he put his hand on Harry's arm. "Don't over react, it was just a bit of potato."    
   
"You're my guest," hissed Harry. "Ron told them to back off." He glared past Hermione at Ron who held up his hands to deny any involvement.    
   
"Nothing to do with me, I swear," he protested. "I told them to to lay off." He didn't look too upset that they hadn't listened, in fact it looked like he was trying to suppress a smirk.    
   
"Then tell them again!" demanded Harry.    
   
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hey, Seamus," he called.    
   
Seamus sobered a little. "Yes, Ron," he asked solicitously.    
   
"Harry here respectfully requests you not throw food at Malfoy." He was definitely smirking now.    
   
"Well I shall certainly bear that in mind," said Seamus in a faux serious tone.    
   
Draco could see Harry's hands curling into fists.    
   
"Harry, leave it. What did you expect?"    
   
"I thought maybe they'd remembered that they're supposed to be my friends," spat Harry.    
   
"It's not about you, it's about me! And I don't care, so just ignore them. Rome wasn't built in a day. Now simmer down or I'm going to go sit at the Slytherin table."    
   
"If you leave I'm going with you," warned Harry.    
   
"Oh, for Pete's sake." Draco looked up and caught Seamus' eye. "Hey, Finnegan! Next time aim at Potter, he's starting to take life too seriously again."    
   
Seamus just gaped at being addressed in such a familiar way by the enemy.    
   
Harry found himself stifling a smile at Seamus' shocked expression. "Well, you seem to have cheered up again," he said to Draco.    
   
"It's hard to mope while being hit in the head with mashed potato," replied Draco. "So perhaps we ought to thank Finnegan for that much."    
   
"Oh, I'm going to thank him all right," muttered Harry. "Just you wait and see."    
   
Draco spent the rest of the meal allowing himself to be distracted by Harry and then afterwards indulged in some meaningful glaring with Weasley during his detention but eventually the evening was over and there was nothing for it but to face up to his thoughts. He delayed for a few hours with some more homework but finally he was left to his worries and his fears.    
   
He sat in the Slytherin common room staring into the fire, everyone else was in bed but he was delaying for several reasons. Because he was afraid of what tomorrow might bring by way of new messages from his father. Because he didn't want to fall asleep and risk what he might dream. Because he didn't want to go to bed alone after the comfortable closeness of sleeping next to Harry that morning, the boy that his Father's next message would undoubtedly ask him to betray.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Draco's Dream    
   
It was this again, the dungeon. He was almost resigned. He listened for her voice and sure enough...    
   
"Please, just let me go. I didn't do anything. Please."    
   
"What are you waiting for, Draco," said his father patiently. "Time to practise what I've been teaching you."    
   
Draco turned around slowly, knowing what he'd see behind him... Harry?    
   
Harry was chained, wearing the vest and underwear he'd had on earlier, his face streaked with tears. Draco stared at him in horror.    
   
_"No, this is wrong..."_  
   
"Go on, Draco," said his father from behind him. "Isn't this what you always wanted?"    
   
"Please, Draco," pleaded Harry. "Help me." There was blood trickling into his eye and Draco realised that his lightening bolt scar was fresh and bleeding.    
   
"Harry?" he reached out his hand to him. "What are you doing here?"    
   
"I thought we were friends," wept Harry. His eyes were liquid green, they looked so big that he could barely see anything else. "You said I should trust you and I did."    
   
"You did a good job, Draco," said his father behind him. "Now finish it and we'll have a party. Dancing and romancing and birthday cake."    
   
Draco realised that the hand he was holding out to Harry held his wand. He stared at it, thinking stupidly that his wand was supposed to be confiscated. How had he got it back?    
   
"Try out the Imperius curse first, it's bound to come in useful in the future," hissed Voldemort.    
   
"I already did," he answered. "How do you think I got him here?"    
   
"Draco?" said Harry. "I don't understand."    
   
"You have to leave, Harry," he told him urgently. "You're not supposed to be here. It's a mistake." He could feel something coming inside him and tried to push it back. "You have to escape."    
   
"Help me."    
   
"I can't." _No, no, no, I won't say it, I won't..._  
   
"Help me."    
   
"Harry!" _No..._ "Avada K..."    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco stood in the dark outside the opened portrait hole wearing Harry's invisibility cloak. This was a really bad idea. He shivered hard and wrapped his arms around himself. The corridor was cold and he was... it was stupid but he was afraid. Afraid he might suddenly find he was still dreaming and there would be something behind him, something awful...    
   
He swallowed hard and ducked through the entrance, closing it behind him. Berating himself for a coward and a fool he quietly climbed the stairs and entered the boys dormitory. He quickly made his way over to Harry's bed and ducked through the curtains.    
   
In the darkness he felt his way over the covers until he found a warm, sleeping body. He hoped to hell he hadn't got the beds confused as he climbed under the covers and snuggled down next to what he thought was Harry. If he woke up next to Weasley instead they'd probably both die of shock. He left the cloak draped over his head and shoulders just in case and wrapped his arms around Harry's warm body, it seemed to ease the fear inside and the memory of that searing green flash was replaced by a warm dark-red calm. Draco fell asleep.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Sunday 5th Oct    
   
Harry woke slowly, there was a comfortable weight across his chest and for a moment he thought maybe Crookshanks had snuck in, but he usually preferred to pester Ron. He shifted slightly, waking up a bit more, and realised the comfortable warmth ran across his chest, right down his side and over his left leg and there was soft breath tickling his neck. He turned his head slightly to the side, feeling soft cloth rub against his cheek but seeing nothing. He reached over with his right arm and pulled the invisible cloth away to reveal Draco's blonde hair. He lay on his side against Harry, one leg hooked over Harry's and his hand splayed across his chest. Now that the invisibility cloak had been pushed aside he could feel Draco's hair against his face, he ran his fingers through it wondering if he was having some sort of memory problem. He had absolutely no recollection of how Draco had ended up in his bed again. Maybe Ron was right and he really was losing his mind.    
   
He could think of worse ways to go if it meant waking up like this more often.    
   
He sighed as he contemplated how happy it made him feel to be so close to someone... not just to someone... to Draco. _"Well why not?"_ he thought. _"People need physical contact, that doesn't mean anything. That doesn't mean that I want... more. It's just nice to be touched. I'm a little fucked up cause I didn't have anyone to hold me when I was young and that's bound to have an effect. Right? I'm just... overcompensating or something. And maybe he is too... I mean his father's a Death-Eater. That can hardly lead to a pleasant normal upbringing. He's lonely too, like I am. He's afraid of Voldemort, just like I am."_ He realised Draco must have snuck into the room after he'd fallen asleep. _"Another nightmare,"_ he thought, remembering the awful dreams that had plagued his summer. He still had them from time to time but not so much now he was back at school. Being at school didn't seem to help Draco, but being here obviously did. Harry rolled over into Draco's limp body and wrapped himself around it, rubbing his cheek on the other boy's soft hair. It felt good, more than good. It felt like everything he had ever been missing. Draco's arms tightened around him in his sleep in response to his embrace.    
   
A few moments later he felt the flutter of eyelashes against his skin. "Draco?" he asked quietly. "You awake?"    
   
"Mmmm." Draco wiggled a little against him sending a shot of something far more disconcerting than comfort through Harry's body.    
   
"What are you doing in my bed?" Harry asked.    
   
Draco didn't answer, maybe he was still asleep. Harry sighed, if Seamus or Dean saw Draco in his bed he would never live it down.    
   
"Couldn't sleep," Draco muttered into his neck. "Had a nightmare."    
   
He was awake. "I figured. Don't you think this maybe isn't the best of ideas?"    
   
"Feels pretty good to me," murmured Draco, pressing closer to Harry in a decidedly non-platonic way.    
   
"Hey!" Harry hissed, trying to pull back out of Draco's arms. "Don't do that."    
   
"What?" Draco looked up into Harry's panicked face. "What's wrong?"    
   
"You shouldn't be here. Ron'll have a fit, Seamus and Dean'll ... I can't even imagine what they'd do, but it wouldn't be good."    
   
"Has anyone ever told you," said Draco. "That you worry too much."    
   
"I worry just enough. You clearly don't worry enough."    
   
"I worry about the important things, whether your house-mates find me in bed with you or not falls very far down that list."    
   
"Well how far up your list is my sanity?" asked Harry.    
   
Draco seemed to be in a teasingly good mood. "I'll get out of here on one condition," he answered. "A favour let's say, I think you owe me one."    
   
"What?"    
   
"Let me kiss you."    
   
"What!"    
   
"I know, I know... you're not gay etc etc. But surely one little kiss won't hurt, then I'll put the cloak on and get out of your hair."    
   
"But... just one?"    
   
Draco smiled and rolled on top of Harry. "Just one," he murmured and brought his lips down onto Harry's before he could say no. Once the initial contact was made Harry seemed to forget his reservations and made no struggle to end it. Draco took his hands and laced their fingers together either side of Harry's head as he explored the soft skin of Harry's mouth and face with his lips. As Harry had done before he laid patterns of soft kisses across his face, nuzzling against him like a cat. How could it be that skin moving past skin could feel so different when it was someone else's skin... Harry's skin. He moved back to Harry's lips, their mouths coming together in a soft, mutual openness. He was suddenly intensely aware of every inch of his body pressed firmly into Harry and the desire for more.    
   
Harry was right, this wasn't a good idea. Not here and not now. He pulled back and gazed for a moment at Harry's aroused, submissive expression. But somewhere and soon.    
   
He kissed him once more on the lips, quickly, then rolled off him and gathered up the invisibility cloak.    
   
Harry lay there, dazed. He raised himself up slowly on one elbow and put his hand to his lips.    
   
"You'll need to let me out in case anyone sees the doors opening by themselves," Draco told him, pulling the cloak back around him.    
   
Harry just stared at him.    
   
"It's okay, Harry. Don't worry about it. Come on." Draco touched him lightly on the cheek then covered himself fully with the cloak and waited for Harry to lead him out.    
   
Harry stared into the empty space where Draco had been for a few moments then got out of bed. Still with that same dazed expression he put on his dressing gown and let Draco out of Gryffindor Tower. When he got back upstairs he sat down on his bed and looked at his hands, they were trembling so badly he tucked them underneath him to keep them still.    
   
_"What the hell?"_ he thought. It was about the only coherent statement his mind could form as he groped for an explanation for what had happened that didn't involve him being gay. Finally he got as far as, _"Physical contact, I'm a teenage boy... looking at linoleum can turn me on, of course that did. It doesn't mean anything. Just like Ron and everyone when they mess around together and jerk off, it doesn't mean anything. Just a bit of a laugh. It's what boys do."_ But part of him knew he was lying, a part that was growing more and more vocal every day. He was beginning to think of it as his inner Hermione. It said, _"You're gay, Harry. Live with it."_ It also said, _"Fuck that was good, when can we do it again?"_ Actually that sounded a bit more like an inner-Ron. Hermione would never say fuck. Whoever the hell it was, it wasn't him. It was some runaway part of his brain that didn't know what was good for it... that didn't understand that this was not possible. He would not be gay, it would ruin everything. All the things that he desperately wanted even if he'd never said as much to anyone... a family, wife, children... a normal life.

He knew what it meant to be gay, Uncle Vernon had talked about it a lot when he had found out one of his brother's children was a 'disgusting pervert' as he had put it. The boys at his old school were always on about it, if they took a dislike to you were called gay... a poof, a faggot, a queer, an arse-licker, a pillow-biter, a fucking homo... Harry had heard it all, been called it all. He remembered that time when they had been driving home late at night, picking up Dudley from Aunt Marge's... Uncle Vernon had taken a wrong turn and they'd ended up in a pretty seedy area. There'd been a group of people laughing and shouting at the car, dressed in tight leather and feathers and lycra and sweat. They'd just come out of a club of some sort and they were drunk and falling over one another, showing more skin than Harry had ever seen. They were all men though some of them were dressed as women, with strangely muscular calves under fishnet stockings and flat chests in tight boob tubes, stubble showing under their makeup. Uncle Vernon had nearly run them over, muttering comments under his breath as Dudley sat gaping out the window. He had turned to both boys as they drove away and said, "You see that! That's what your life is if you don't stick to the straight and narrow. Drunk and whoring yourself out to strangers on the street. Disgusting. Shaming their families, ruining their lives... they'll die in the gutter you mark my words. Filthy perverts."    
   
Harry wasn't one to listen to his Uncle Vernon but somehow that life lesson had stuck inside him. Perhaps because he had been frightened by the dark and by the strange, drunken men. Perhaps because everyone he had ever met had seemed to agree with his Uncle Vernon about homosexuality and the results of it. That it destroyed your life, hurt your family and friends. Harry hated that thought most of all, the thought that his mother and father would be so disappointed to find out their son was gay. That there would be no more Potter's to carry on the family line. He couldn't do that to them. He had to get past this somehow. He didn't have to be gay if he didn't want to be.    
   
He sank his face in his hands, but how could he get past this when all he could think about, all he could feel and taste and want, was more of Draco Malfoy. This had to stop.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Back in the Slytherin Common Room, after putting away the invisibility cloak and dressing, Draco was accosted by his fathers owl as he was about to leave for breakfast. He froze as it landed heavily on his shoulder and his high spirits drained out of him. With numb fingers he untied the scroll and carried it to his dormitory to read in peace. When he first unsealed the message he stared in confusion at what appeared to be a blank sheet of parchment. He ran his fingers across it wondering what it was supposed to mean, but at the touch of his hand words suddenly appeared. He drew back in surprise and the writing vanished again. Realising that the message was keyed to appear only when his hand was touching the center of the parchment as identification he placed his fingers again on the paper.    
   
   
Draco,  
         This news finds me very well indeed. Lord Voldemort has    
instructed me in his plans for Potter and orders you to make sure  
that he 'loses' his wand by this coming Friday. It doesn't matter  
what you do... steal it, break it, destroy it. Just make sure it  
is not available to him. I am sure I do not need to tell you what  
failing in your task may mean, Lord Voldemort does not suffer  
failure well and we are both putting our trust in you. Do not  
disappoint us.  
         Burn this letter to be sure it cannot be found.  
   
                                Your father,  
                                             Lucius Malfoy  
   
Draco dropped the parchment onto his bed and watched the ink disappear again. What did they have planned for Friday? Gods, Friday... barely 5 days away. But what good would it do them for Harry to lose his wand? He would still be here at Hogwarts, protected by the wards over the school and by Dumbledore.    
   
Dumbledore... tomorrow he was supposed to go to Dumbledore with Harry and tell him about Voldemort. He had promised that he would. Somehow, when he was with Harry it was so easy to think of betraying Voldemort and his father. So easy to imagine he could tell the truth and live happily ever after.    
   
Here, on his own with his fathers veiled threats before him, it was not so easy. Voldemort was so powerful, Draco had felt it just being in his presence. Disgusting and evil and frightening and so powerful the air around him crackled with it, the smell of ozone after lightning struck. How could a handful of teachers and children stand up to the swelling ranks of the Death Eaters? How could they protect Harry when the Dark Lord chose to make his move? How could they protect him if he tried to stand with them? If he failed his father, if he betrayed Voldemort... what sanctuary could they possibly provide for him?    
   
He picked up the parchment and crumpled it in his hands, marched through to the Common Room and threw it into the fire. As he watched it burn he remembered crying helplessly in Harry's arms only a week ago and wished he could travel back there. Because right now he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and rail at the world and have Harry hold him and rock him and tell him everything was going to be all right. But everything wasn't going to be all right and there was no time now for tears and protestations. He had decisions to make. No just one decision...    
   
Did he want to follow Voldemort and live or follow Harry and die?    
   
He stared into the flames for a very long time.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
In his office Professor Snape watched the last of the parchment burn as he turned over this latest message in his mind. As usual he knew that he was not being told the whole story, despite his best attempts he was still not fully trusted by Lord Voldemort. However he was trusted enough to be asked to play an important part in the coming plan, even if it were only due to desperation. He was almost 100% sure Voldemort had no-one else on the inside of Hogwarts with the power to do what was needed, to open up a gap in the protective wards that surrounded the area of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Only a teacher would know the access spells to bring down the barriers and this coming weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend. Furthermore he had informed Voldemort himself that Dumbledore would be away from the school, far away.    
 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione have a heart to heart.

**Chapter 9 - Sunday 5th Oct cont.**  
  
Draco and Harry both missed breakfast that morning and spent lunch at their separate tables watching one another only when they thought the other was not looking. Caught in their own thoughts which were surprisingly similar despite their different reasons.  
  
_"How can I do what I need to when I want to be with him so much I can hardly breath? How can I turn my back on this and walk away without breaking into pieces?"_  
  
_"Maybe I should just start walking, I could walk out of this room and out of this school and through the Forest and past Hogsmeade and just walk and walk until I don't know where I am any more and if I don't know where I am then how can anyone else find me? I won't be with him but at least I won't be a part of it any more. Or maybe we could both go, together. We could find a cave somewhere and catch rabbits to eat and sleep rough and nobody would ever know where we had gone or why. We'd be free."_  
  
_"Why do I want him so much? I don't understand where it came from, I don't even know him that well though it feels like I do. It's like I just woke up and there he was and all of a sudden my entire life revolves around being near him. Everything else is just an inconvenience."_  
  
_"How does he make me feel so safe... as if nothing can touch me if he's there. It's like there's a bubble around us and we're inside our own universe and no-one else can enter so how can anything ever hurt us. But it's a lie, it's just a lie."_  
  
_"I've never felt anything like this before."_  
  
_"I've never known anyone like him before."_  
  
_"I didn't know what wanting something really felt like before."_  
  
_"I didn't know what caring about someone really felt like before."_  
  
_"I can't lose this."_  
  
_"I won't lose this."_  
  
Suddenly their eyes met across the room and they didn't look away for a long time.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
When Hermione turned towards Harry she saw him staring across the room with an almost desperate expression on his face. He was pale and his eyes were wide and liquid as if he was almost but not quite about to cry. It was heart-stopping and she couldn't help but reach out her hand to him. When she touched his arm he jumped slightly and turned to her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sorry, I just... you looked so..." Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, please talk to me about what's going on. Sometimes you seem fine but sometimes... I look at you and you seem in so much pain. I just want to help you make that go away."  
  
Harry stared at her for a moment... talk to Hermione. It was something he had been avoiding for weeks but maybe... he needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn't part of the problem. Maybe it was time to talk to Hermione. "Not here, Hermione," he said finally. "After lunch?"  
  
She looked immensely relieved. "Of course. Why don't we go for a walk, out by the lake?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Okay."  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
They walked in silence for a long while until Hermione finally said, "Just tell me, Harry. Just talk and I'll listen."  
  
Harry didn't reply at first but eventually he said, "I don't want to be gay. Why should I have to be if I don't want to be?"  
  
Hermione waited to see if he would say any more but he fell silent again. "Why don't you want to be gay?" she prompted finally.  
  
Harry stopped walking and stared out across the lake. "I... I want children, a family. If I'm gay I can't have that."  
  
Hermione thought about that. "You could adopt," she suggested.  
  
"No-one's going to give a child to a poof," he said derisively. "And even if they did what could I offer it? It wouldn't even be mine, it wouldn't be a Potter."  
  
Hermione sighed and looked at Harry, she knew how important the family Harry had never had was to him but she hadn't realised that meant the family yet to come as well as the family he had already lost. "I don't know what to say," she said. "I don't know much about it. I've hardly even considered having children one day myself... but I'm sure there must be ways."  
  
Harry said nothing.  
  
"It's just... you can't just decide not to be gay, Harry. You are or you're not... I think that's the way it works anyway. I mean I know I couldn't just decide to be gay so I would think it would be the same the other way around."  
  
"I can be whatever I want to be!" snapped Harry, starting to walk again. "Just because I'm attracted to someone doesn't mean I have to act on it."  
  
"I suppose... but, Harry, wouldn't you rather be with someone you're attracted to than someone you're not?"  
  
"I'd rather be normal," he answered with determination. "I'm tired of being stared at, I don't need something else to mark me out as different. I don't want this!" He stopped again and stared up in the sky, fists clenched, as if trying to bring something back under control.  
  
"Tell me what you're thinking about," Hermione whispered.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and slumped back against a tree. "Why can't I control this?" he asked. "I know all the reasons not to do this and I still can't stop it, it won't go away. I look at him and no matter how many times I tell myself to walk away I still don't." He fixed Hermione with a pleading gaze. "There has to be something you can do about this! Some spell that can make it go away."  
  
Hermione put her hand to her mouth, his thoughts echoed thoughts she had entertained herself in the past when she had feared Ron would never be interested in her. When all she had wanted was for the feelings she had to go away so she could get on with her life. She too had looked for some spell to take away her pain. "There isn't, nothing you would want to use. The only potions that can take away feelings like that take too much else with them, they'd leave you empty inside. Unable to feel anything, you might as well be dead."  
  
Harry didn't ask how she knew about it without doing any research. He just nodded as if he'd expected her answer. "I figured it couldn't be that easy... fucking magic. What good is it anyway when it can't help with any of the important stuff?"  
  
"Don't you think maybe you're making this bigger than it needs to be," she asked tentatively.  
  
He looked up at her in anger.  
  
"I just mean, you're only fifteen. You've got all the time in the world to worry about having a family and stuff, there's other stuff that's more important right now."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, like passing your exams and defeating Voldemort for a start."  
  
"In that order, huh?" said Harry with a faint smile.  
  
Hermione shrugged and smiled back.  
  
"I don't even want to think about Voldemort," said Harry. "I thought maybe he'd forget about me now that he'd got his powers back, but that was just wishful thinking and now I know he hasn't."  
  
"Know? How?"  
  
Harry measured her up, wondering whether to say any more. Finally he said, "Draco," and left it at that.  
  
Hermione didn't know what to make of that. "What do you mean?"  
  
Harry chewed on his thumb nail a bit. "Voldemort thinks Draco's on his side, he told him to get close to me. We don't know what he has planned."  
  
"Voldemort told Malfoy to get close to you and you're letting him?" Hermione was frightened, she had worried that Malfoy might be up to something but to hear it confirmed by Harry as if it didn't matter...  
  
"Draco's not working for Voldemort... his father and Voldemort just think he is," explained Harry.  
  
"How do you know he's not?"  
  
"Because he told me and I believed him. Draco's loyalties are not in question here."  
  
"Well, why the hell not!"  
  
Harry looked shocked at Hermione's language.  
  
"Harry, please. I know you've got some sort of thing going on with Malfoy but you can't let it cloud your judgement. We've been wrong before, it's so easy to trust the wrong person. We thought Snape was trying to kill you and all along it was Professor Quirrel, we thought we could trust Moody... your parents trusted Wormtail and it got them killed!"  
  
Harry's expression was cold. "If I hadn't gone with my instincts in the Shrieking Shack and trusted Sirius we could all be dead now. Draco is telling me the truth and tomorrow night I'm going with him to see Professor Dumbledore and he's going to tell him the truth too. I have enough problems without you deciding Draco's still the enemy."  
  
Hermione slumped. "I'm sorry, I just hope you're right." She walked over and leant against the tree next to him. "How'd we end up talking about Voldemort anyway?"  
  
"Dunno. I guess everything comes around to him eventually in my life. You're probably right that I should just quit worrying about the gay thing, what does it matter anyway? Chances are I won't live long enough to have a family."  
  
"Harry, don't say that!"  
  
"But I'd still rather be remembered as The Boy Who Died Heroically Fighting Voldemort than The Boy Who Took It Up The Arse."  
  
"And don't say that either! Where did you get this attitude from... no let me guess, those horrible people who brought you up. You're not going to die fighting Voldemort and nobody cares whether you're gay or not except you and the sort of people you don't want to waste your time on anyway! You're Harry Potter and you'll always be Harry Potter whether you're gay or straight or even if you shave off all your hair and join a religious cult. You're my friend and I don't care whether you prefer boys or not and neither does Ron or Ginny... well except in the being a little heart-broken department... and neither will anyone else if you stop hiding it."  
  
"You told Ron as well!" Harry shouted.  
  
"He saw you in bed with Malfoy, Harry."  
  
"We were only sleeping!" Harry protested.  
  
"Right, and you sleep in the same bed, in your underwear, holding hands, with all your close friends!" retorted Hermione. "He's not stupid."  
  
"What am I going to do?" moaned Harry in horror.  
  
"Harry I told you, he doesn't care if you're gay. He might be a little horrified about *who* was in your bed but the fact that it was a boy isn't the problem there."  
  
"Has he told anyone else? You did tell him not to didn't you?"  
  
"Of course I did. I can't believe you'll put up with the entire school hating you for being friends with Malfoy but you throw a fit at the thought someone might find out you're gay. You're not the first gay student ever to go to Hogwarts you know."  
  
"I'm not?" Harry shook himself. "I mean of course I'm not but I bet they keep their mouths shut about it too."  
  
"Sometimes I think you walk through the school with your eyes shut and your fingers in your ears. You should pay more attention... Justin Finch-Fletchley came out last year."  
  
"He what? No-one told me that!"  
  
"Well no-one was talking to you for a good part of last year," Hermione admitted. "The whole year was buzzing about it but I guess you managed to miss it."  
  
"I was a little busy trying not to get eaten by a dragon," said Harry sarcastically.  
  
"I guess by the time you made up with Ron it was old news."  
  
"He's really gay?"  
  
"Yup. And nobody cares, Harry. If he was being singled out for it don't you think you might have noticed?"  
  
"I guess. But that still doesn't mean it's fine, that doesn't change everything."  
  
"You are so stubborn. Aside from the kids thing, and I really think you're way too young to be worrying about that, what else is there?"  
  
"Well... the law for one."  
  
"What are you on about?"  
  
"It was in the leaflets you gave me, Hermione! Didn't you even read them?"  
  
"Of course I did. I thought you burned them!"  
  
"Well... I didn't," he admitted. "They're still in my trunk. I only read one and it had all these laws... I could get sent to Azkaban!"  
  
"For what?" she asked furrowing her brow. She didn't remember anything about gay people getting thrown in Azkaban.  
  
"Ten years, it said, if you're under 21... and I'm only 15. And... something about a Decency Act, it's illegal for me to kiss a boy if I'm not in my own house and if anyone sees it's illegal even if it's a ghost!"  
  
Hermione started laughing.  
  
"It's not funny. I've already broken the law, they could expel me!"  
  
"You've already... you kissed Malfoy!"  
  
Harry went bright red. "He kissed me," he mumbled. "Do you think that means it was just him who broke the law?" he asked hopefully.  
  
Hermione couldn't answer for laughing, finally she managed to pull herself together. "I remember that leaflet now... you didn't read all of it did you?"  
  
"I read enough," sulked Harry feeling she wasn't taking this seriously enough.  
  
"Obviously not the bit that noted that these laws are very rarely prosecuted and besides which you're a minor, they don't apply to minors! If you slept with someone over 18 they'd be in trouble, not you. And I really don't think kissing counts anyway."  
  
Harry was still blushing but for a different reason now. "It just said homosexual acts, I didn't know what they meant exactly."  
  
"Didn't you ask Malfoy about it when he kissed you, if you were so worried? He could've told you, he's studying Law this year."  
  
"I haven't really talked to him about any of this," Harry admitted.  
  
"You are impossible."  
  
"You're sure it's not illegal."  
  
"I am quite positive that you won't get thrown in Azkaban for kissing Malfoy, although Ron might have you sent to St Mungo's when he hears about it."  
  
"You're laughing at me... and what do you mean *when* he hears about it!"  
  
"Oh go on, let me tell him. I'm dying to see the look on his face."  
  
"No! And quit laughing."  
  
"I'm sorry, but it really is funny."  
  
"Remind me not to confide in you again."  
  
"Oh come of it, Harry. Give it a while and you'll probably think it's funny too."  
  
"Somehow I doubt it." Harry fumed silently feeling pretty stupid.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
That evening at dinner he alternated between watching Draco and curiously studying Justin Finch-Fletchley. He'd really had absolutely no idea he was gay and wondered if Hermione had been making it up to make him feel better. He didn't look gay.  
  
Eventually he turned to Ron. "Ron," he whispered.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Hermione said she... told you."  
  
"Told me what?" asked Ron in confusion.  
  
"About... you know... that she thinks... you know, about me."  
  
"Oh, the gay thing? She said you were in denial and I wasn't to talk about it. Are you out of denial then?"  
  
Harry frowned. "I... um... do I have to answer that?"  
  
"I guess not, but if you're still in denial shouldn't we be not talking about it? I don't want Hermione to yell at me again."  
  
"Look, just... tell me, is Justin Finch-Fletchley really gay?"  
  
Ron glanced over at the Hufflepuff table. "Yeah," he answered casually. "Didn't you know?"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Well, he is." Ron grinned. "Why, are you gonna ask him out? Cause you totally have my blessing on *anyone* who isn't a Slytherin."  
  
"I am not... just forget I asked."  
  
"Okay, but he's *much* nicer than Malfoy. Sure you don't want me to drop some hints for you?"  
  
Harry went bright red. "Ron, shut up! I am not asking out Justin!" he hissed.  
  
"Fine but you're passing up a great guy there."  
  
"Then why don't you ask him out!"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes and went back to eating his pie.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Draco sat at the Slytherin table feeling increasingly lonely. How could he have gotten so used to Harry's company in such a short time that he could no longer bear to spend his meals alone. He wondered if he should sneak into Harry's room again tonight, he wondered if Harry would let him. They hadn't spoken since this morning and he was worried that he might have pushed Harry too fast with the kiss. He wanted to tell Harry about the letter he had received that morning but he hadn't yet made up his mind. He thought maybe he should hedge his bets... warn them that an attack was coming but steal Harry's wand on Thursday so he could claim he had done his job if things went badly. Hope that it wouldn't be obvious that he had warned them. If he had Harry's wand as proof it would back up his story that he had done as he was told.  
  
But if Harry realised who had taken it... maybe he should ask to borrow it and accidentally break it. But that might be suspicious too, he wasn't naturally clumsy. He'd just have to see what opportunities presented themselves on Thursday.  
  
He would put it out of his mind until then.  
  
When he saw Harry and his friends get up to leave the room he hurried over to catch him. "Harry!"  
  
Harry stopped and waited for him, gesturing Ron and Hermione to go ahead. "What is it?"  
  
Harry's tone was reserved but not cold, maybe a little nervous Draco thought. He drew Harry aside so they could speak privately. "You okay? You're not mad about this morning are you?"  
  
Harry flushed at the reminder and at his previous fears that what they had done might be illegal. "No. I just... needed a little time to think."  
  
"Are you finished then?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Thinking. Are you finished thinking."  
  
"Oh... I guess so."  
  
"Come to any interesting conclusions?"  
  
"I spoke to Hermione, she... actually she told me Justin Finch-Fletchley was gay. Did you know about that?"  
  
"I thought everyone knew that."  
  
"Everyone except me apparently."  
  
"Well, you're not the most observant person in the world."  
  
"I'm beginning to wonder how I made it this far without flunking out, everyone seems to know more about everything than I do."  
  
"You've just got different priorities than most, Harry. You might not be up on the school gossip but I'm sure you have your areas of expertise."  
  
Draco somehow managed to make that sound vaguely dirty causing Harry to blush... or perhaps he was just letting his imagination get the better of him again. "Did you want something in particular?" he asked. "Cause I have homework I need to do for tomorrow."  
  
"Actually I have to go too, detention as usual. I just wanted to ask you..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I know it's risky but... could I sleep in your dorm again tonight? I promise to behave myself."  
  
"Oh... um... I dunno."  
  
Draco didn't beg him vocally, just looked at him with a pleading expression tinged with fear that Harry might deny him. He couldn't sleep alone tonight, he couldn't bear another nightmare.  
  
Harry couldn't bear to say no to him when he looked so desperate. "All right then, but only because I'm too stupid to say no. I'll meet you back here at ten, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Don't forget the invisibility cloak."  
  
"I won't. Thanks, Harry."  
  
Harry sighed and went upstairs to do his homework.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
That evening at half past nine Harry was taking a shower, his stomach full of butterflies. _"Nothing's going to happen, nothing's going to happen. You're just doing him a favour because he has nightmares when he sleeps on his own. That's it. He promised to behave so nothing is going to happen."_  
  
He had been repeating similar thoughts all evening and suspected that half his essay on Medicinal Uses of Mugwort might read more like Medicinal Uses of Malfoy. This was such a bad idea. Maybe he should meet Draco in the Great Hall and tell him he'd changed his mind. Yes, that was exactly what he should do.  
  
He got out the shower and dressed again. At ten to ten he headed downstairs rehearsing his explanation for why Draco couldn't come back with him, but when he arrived in the Great Hall there was nobody there. He stood around for a few minutes then took the opportunity to leg it, he would tell Draco he'd thought he had changed his mind when he wasn't there. It would be Draco's fault for being late and that way he wouldn't have to go back on saying he could stay with him. Problem solved.  
  
He re-entered Gryffindor Tower feeling a lot more relaxed if a little let-down. After all he'd spent all evening psyching himself up for this, if he'd known it wasn't going to happen he probably would've done a lot better with his essays. He mooched around the Common Room for a few minutes wondering if he should go over his homework again but decided not to bother, he just wasn't in the mood. He thought maybe he'd just go to bed ... maybe even read over those leaflets Hermione had given him after all. It couldn't hurt just to read them.  
  
He went upstairs and changed into his pyjamas, fished the leaflets out the trunk and got into bed, closing the curtains to read them away from prying eyes. When he summoned some light with his wand he almost died of shock, sitting next to him on the bed wearing a pair of navy pyjamas and a dark green dressing gown was Draco, in his lap was the invisibility cloak.  
  
"Draco!" he dropped his wand and the light went out.  
  
"You were expecting someone else?"  
  
Harry relit his wand. "When I went to meet you, you weren't there."  
  
"I was wearing the invisibility cloak you idiot."  
  
"Oh... I thought..."  
  
"You thought that if you disappeared off before I showed up you could get out of this," said Draco, he sounded angry. "If you didn't want me here you could have at least had the courage to tell me to my face."  
  
Harry's face fell. "I didn't... I.... I just..."  
  
"You just what? At least have the guts to admit I'm right."  
  
"I... fine, you're right. I'm sorry. I was just... nervous. This really isn't a good idea, it's against the rules and if anyone found out it would cause so much trouble."  
  
Draco looked him in the eye. "Nervous I believe, but don't give me excuses about it being against the rules. I know you better than that. So... do you want me to go?" The final question was asked casually and without eye contact.  
  
Harry looked at Draco's tense posture, the way his eyes flicked to Harry's face and away again, his hands gripping the invisibility cloak a little too tightly and gave in. "No, stay." Harry sighed. "Tie the curtains on that side will you." Harry bound the curtains together tightly on his side.  
  
"There's a charm you can use," said Draco.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"To keep people from opening the curtains. Just point your wand at them and say 'Claudo Velum'."  
  
"You couldn't have thought of that previously?"  
  
"I was tired before, it didn't cross my mind."  
  
Harry used the charm on the curtains then turned to see Draco picking up one of the leaflets that were lying on the bed.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
Harry felt himself going red again. _"Surely there has to be some sort of limit to the number of times you can blush in one week,"_ he thought in exasperation. "It's nothing, just some leaflets Hermione gave me a while back."  
  
"50 Ways To Come Out to Your Friends  & Family," read Draco. "What number is 'Sneak extremely sexy Slytherin into your dormitory and surprise them all in the morning'?"  
  
"You're not funny and you snuck in here yourself. You're lucky I didn't curse you before I realised who it was."  
  
"Danger is my middle name."  
  
"Funny, I always thought it would be something like Eustace or Horatio."  
  
Draco was still reading the leaflet. "Oh, I like number seventeen. 'Invite your partner to dinner with your parents but make him disguise himself as a girl, once your parents have gotten to know and like him he can remove the disguise.' Whoever wrote this was clearly a genius."  
  
"It doesn't say that."  
  
"It does... I think they got a bit desperate around number fourteen when they realised there just aren't that many plausible ways to do it. Check out number twenty-two... 'Invite all your friends round to your house for a gay porn night'. Did Hermione really think this was going to be useful?" He tossed the leaflets aside. "Load of rubbish. So... you still doing the dance of denial or can we talk about this now?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I guess we can talk about it, doesn't mean I'm gay and that's it but we can talk about it if you want. I talked to Hermione about it this afternoon actually."  
  
"Why does Hermione think you're gay anyway? I mean I didn't think it was obvious and I know you didn't tell her you were."  
  
Harry sighed, "I dunno. Maybe she has a crush on me and she thinks I'm gay cause I don't fancy her back."  
  
Draco laughed out loud at this.  
  
"What? It's possible."  
  
"Except that it's clear to anyone with an ounce of observational skill, which as we covered earlier excludes you, that Hermione is head over heels in sickly sweet puppy love with Weasley... and vice versa for that matter."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You really are thick, Harry." But the insult was cast almost affectionately.  
  
"Well, I guess she is. I never really thought about it much."  
  
"They're your best friends, Harry," Draco noted.  
  
"I've been distracted," he protested.  
  
"By what?" The question seemed unnaturally casual.  
  
"Um... I dunno. Just stuff."  
  
Draco pondered for a moment, twisting the covers between his fingers. "Why does it matter so much to you that people might think you're gay?" he asked finally.  
  
"It just... does. I haven't decided what I am yet and I don't want people to go around thinking something that's not true. Maybe I don't want to be gay, Hermione's my friend and she ought to support me in not being gay if that's what I want instead of trying to push me one way."  
  
Suddenly Draco reached out and lifted Harry's hand out of his lap. Not meeting Harry's eyes he began to study it, running his fingers over the palm, twining their fingers together. After a long moment in which Harry could swear he hadn't taken a single breath Draco raised the hand to his face and pressed it against his cool cheek, then turned his face into it and let his lips ghost over Harry's palm.  
  
Harry watched all this wild-eyed from an arms length away, unable and unwilling to move.  
  
Finally Draco met his eyes. "I'm your friend too, yes?"  
  
"Yes," Harry whispered.  
  
"What if I said I thought Hermione was right? Would you still say you don't want to be gay?"  
  
"I don't...." But there was no strength behind the denial.  
  
Draco leaned forward, still holding Harry's hand against his face, and pressed his lips to Harry's. After a dizzying moment he pulled back again, this time staying only inches way. "Would you still tell me you're not?"  
  
"Are you?" Harry gasped.  
  
Draco smiled at the deflection. "I don't know. I never wanted to kiss anyone before."  
  
"Never?"  
  
"Not till you asked me to last Thursday."  
  
Harry thought about that then asked cautiously, "Why did you run out on me that night?"  
  
Draco's expression faltered at that, his gaze becoming slightly shuttered. "I had my reasons. It was nothing to do with you."  
  
"It didn't feel that way."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it, it's personal." He was trying to put more space between them but Harry wouldn't let go of his hand.  
  
"And this isn't personal?"  
  
Draco's voice broke slightly as he said, "Please, Harry. Don't try and make me talk about this. Not now, not yet."  
  
"When?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Harry let the silence surround them again for a moment. He felt very alone again despite the fact he still had Draco's hand in his. Finally he said, "I suppose I am, amn't I. Whether I want to be or not."  
  
Draco was thrown by this conversational leap. "What?"  
  
"Gay," breathed Harry. Staring at their joined hands, he looked bereft.  
  
"Is that so terrible?" Draco said in relief.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe... yes."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Everything'll change. I'm already weird enough."  
  
"It's just who you are, Harry. Nothing has to change. It didn't for Justin."  
  
"I don't know Justin that well, maybe it did change and we just don't know about it. You don't get it, you and Hermione don't look at it like everyone else. I'm a freak, a pervert. I share a dormitory with four other boys for God's sake, do you know how many times they've messed around in front of me? I would hardly ever join in, they thought I was just uptight about it but if they find out I'm gay... they'll think I was watching them, getting off on it!"  
  
"Were you?"  
  
"Bloody hell, of course not!"  
  
"What, never?" Draco couldn't help but tease a little.  
  
Harry went bright red. "Shut up, Malfoy!"  
  
Draco pulled Harry's hand back up to his lips and kissed the knuckles. "I thought you called me Draco now."  
  
"You're acting like this is some kind of big joke," Harry tried to pull his hand back. "This is my life!"  
  
"I know it's not a joke," Draco said seriously, dropping their joined hands back into his lap. "I just think that you're making it out to be much worse than it is."  
  
"That's what Hermione said, you just don't get it," Harry shot back.  
  
"You think I don't know what it's like to be different? To leave your old life behind and start a new one?"  
  
"That was your choice, to stop being who you were. You didn't have to."  
  
"Just like you don't have to be here with me? Funny how it just isn't that simple."  
  
"It would be that simple if you would let go of my damn hand!"  
  
"Make me," there was a very sensual edge to Draco's challenge. He lifted Harry's hand back to his lips and began to kiss each finger in turn before spreading them and pressing a long soft kiss into Harry's palm.  
  
"For someone who doesn't know if he's gay you seem pretty forward," Harry managed to choke out.  
  
"I don't think I am gay," said Draco, speaking into Harry's hand so that his lips brushed the skin with every word. He was looking straight into Harry's eyes. "I just know that I want this, the fact you're male doesn't seem very relevant. I want to touch you and only you."  
  
His words sent a shiver through Harry's body. He felt very much out of his depth. "I don't understand you sometimes."  
  
"I know. I don't expect you to." With that Draco reached out with his free hand and hooked Harry around the neck, pulling him into another kiss. This one was firmer than before. When Draco broke it he said, "Don't try to, it doesn't matter anyway." And then he was pushing Harry back onto the bed and following him down, pressing his body into his, lips insistent.  
  
He broke away to make another exploration of Harry's face, removing his glasses so that he could run his lips over every inch as his hands tangled into Harry's dark hair. He could feel Harry's breath coming in shocked gasps but his hands made no attempt to push Draco away. Eventually he returned to Harry's mouth to find it softer than before, his lips and teeth slightly parted. He plunged in, his dominant position removing all the previous fear and leaving only a desire he had never experienced before this morning. He wanted everything he could get, every touch and every taste and every incredible surge that seemed to wipe away his memory of anything but here and now and Harry. Their tongues danced nervously together, growing in confidence as they each felt the other boy react positively, their hands were now wandering lower, their legs twined together.  
  
They had broken their kiss and Draco's face was buried in Harry's neck and hair, gasping as he began to move cautiously against Harry. Yes, this was what he wanted. He raised himself up from Harry's neck and began to tug at the buttons of Harry's pyjamas.  
  
"What are you doing?" gasped Harry.  
  
"I want to feel your skin," Draco answered, mindless to Harry's shock, not even thinking that Harry might disagree. He could feel how much Harry wanted this.  
  
Harry put his hands over Draco's, stopping him. "Don't you think we're going a bit fast?"  
  
Draco met his eyes with a mild look of surprise. "I want this, don't you want this?"  
  
"I... I never even thought we'd get this far," Harry answered truthfully.  
  
"I never even knew that I wanted to, but I do. I want to feel your skin against mine." Draco flexed his hands under Harry's. "I want this, I need this. You want it too, I know you do, I can *feel* you." At that Draco pressed his erection into Harry's causing him to make a deep groan of desire.  
  
"Of course I want you, I just don't know if we should," Harry protested weakly.  
  
But he had stopped holding Draco still and within a few moments his pyjamas were open and pushed aside baring his chest. Harry made a final wordless protest before dissolving back into moans as Draco bent his head to Harry's chest and began to lick and suck and bite every inch he had exposed.  
  
It didn't matter to Draco in the slightest if they were moving too fast. For all he knew, come this Friday one of them would be dead and they would never have this chance again. As to being found out... he didn't care what anyone at the school thought any more and he knew his Father and Voldemort would easily accept this as part of the getting close to Harry Potter plan. All he cared about was touching Harry, absorbing every moan of pleasure, every hoarse whisper of his name. He felt as though he had been walking around with his eyes closed for his entire life and now that he'd opened them he never wanted to blink again. He could do this forever.  
  
Settling himself with his knees either side of Harry's hips, Draco brought one hand to Harry's face, his fingers stroking over his lips till Harry opened his mouth and took the tips in, sucking and biting on them. Draco's other hand ran down Harry's chest, over the soft skin of his stomach to the waistband of his pyjamas. There he ghosted along the line of cloth before pushing it aside to reach underneath. Harry just about bit his finger off when he took hold of his erection.  
  
As Draco's hand closed around him Harry's entire body jolted with the intense feeling of being touched by a hand that was not his own. He had never let anyone else touch him down there, although Ron and Seamus had both offered to. It had seemed too intimate, too close to the line between what straight boys get away with and what gay boys do, even if he'd seen or heard the other guys do it before and been assured it didn't mean anything. His eyes shot open and met Draco's in amazement. Draco watched him as he gently ran his hand over him in a soft caress that Harry could tell was fuelled by curiosity even if it felt like a tease.  
  
Eventually Draco broke the eye contact and looked down. He climbed off Harry and drew his pyjama bottoms off leaving Harry to all intents and purposes naked. Starting at the ankle he drew his hands back up Harry's body following with his body until he was stretched out along Harry's side, one leg between Harry's, his left hand took Harry's right and pressed it into the covers above their heads and he rested his right hand on Harry's chest. He looked down into his eyes again, Harry's expression was both hungry and submissive. Harry reached up cautiously with his free hand to touch Draco's face, running over his cheekbone then around his neck to draw him down gently into another kiss and Draco let him marvelling in this new aspect to Harry, it seemed as though Harry somehow sensed his need to be in control and automatically submitted to it. He never would have thought of Harry as naturally submissive but lying here, half on top of him, it seemed right somehow. He drew back from the kiss and allowed his eyes to stray back down Harry's body, over the swollen lips he had just released, down his neck with it's pale front and sun-darkened back, there was a smear of ink just under his ear that Harry hadn't noticed and Draco bent down to kiss it, smelling soap on his skin. He continued his study down over Harry's pale chest noting the tan line on Harry's left arm where a t-shirt had stopped the sun from colouring him. His arms and shoulders were muscled but still slim, when he ran his hand over his chest he could almost but not quite feel ribs. He spread his hand out across Harry's breast, studying the way the ivory skin looked against the tan of his hand. It wasn't like Draco to be so tanned, but he had spent a lot of time outside this summer avoiding what was happening inside his home. He hadn't realised how tanned he was till now, seeing his skin against Harry's. Between his fingers was a small, hard, dark pink nipple, he slid his hand away down Harry's side and bent down to catch it in his teeth. As he nipped at it Harry gasped under him, his free hand clutching at the blankets.  
  
"You like that?" Draco asked, his breath whispering across the damp skin and making Harry quiver.  
  
"Yes," Harry hissed.  
  
Draco did it again, tugging at the small, hard nub.  
  
Harry squirmed under him, moaning. A whisper of a thought passed through the back of Harry's mind that there were ways in which it might be easier to stay still. That if Draco were to tie him down he would have both hands free to touch him, but Harry shied away from the thoughts as a little too much. He wasn't ready to think about things like that. Save it for later.  
  
Draco moved to the other side of Harry's chest and repeated his actions, his free hand sliding down to Harry's hip and digging into the taut skin there. He was hard against Harry's thigh but far more focused on making Harry gasp and moan his name. He moved lower to the soft skin of Harry's stomach and ran his face over it, again breathing in the scent of soap that was now joined by the smell of arousal. He ran his hand up the inside of Harry's thigh as he nipped at his stomach then drew away again to look down as his hand reached it's previous goal. Coming from below he cupped Harry's lightly haired balls, they were already tight against his body with arousal and Draco nudged Harry's thighs further apart with his knee to give him better access. With a soft sigh Harry let his left knee fall outwards, his hips arching slightly to encourage Draco to keep touching him. Draco massaged the wrinkled skin, distracted by the novelty of being able to look so closely. He had never really paid much attention to his own genitalia if truth be told. He had masturbated in the past, very occasionally, but it had never done anything for him. It had always seemed so... pointless and animalistic. Grunting away on your own like you were in thrall to your own body's desires and couldn't just tell them to go away like a civilised wizard would. Not like this, not like this at all. Touching yourself was cheap and empty, touching someone else, touching Harry... was like flying. It was the ultimate power trip, manipulation on a basic level, it felt like everything in his life had been practise for this, a shadow of this. Four years of trying to get under Harry's skin, trying to come out on top and here he was... on top. And all he wanted to do with his newfound position was make Harry feel as good as it was possible to feel.  
  
He ran his hand up the length of Harry's dick. He thought it was about the same size as his, maybe a little bigger... he wasn't sure. Harry was hairier than he was. _"Hairy Harry,"_ he thought, his nerves going to his head, he suppressed a very inappropriate giggle. He'd never touched another boy before, in fact he'd gone out of his way to stay out of the horseplay that went on in his own dormitory. As a result he had no idea what he was doing, he just knew that whatever it was he really wanted to do it.  
  
"Drac... ooh. Where's my wand?" Harry gasped.  
  
"What?"  
  
Harry felt around the bed with his free hand. "My wand. Lubricant Charm."  
  
Draco wasn't sure what he was on about but spotted Harry's wand and handed it to him.  
  
Harry took it and pointed it at Draco's hand. "Lubricans."  
  
Draco started as his hand was suddenly coated in a clear, slick gel. He rubbed his fingers together and felt them slip past one another. Harry caught his attention by bucking his hips slightly again and squeezing his other hand. Draco looked up into his eyes.  
  
"Are you going to make me beg or are you going to touch me?" Harry asked desperately.  
  
Draco grinned, "The begging sounds interesting, but I'll let you off this time." He grasped hold of Harry again, grinning wider as Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back with a hum of pure pleasure. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing but as long as Harry was making those noises he figured he must be doing something right. With a firm grasp he began to stroke his hand up and down Harry's erection, sometimes sliding lower to squeeze his balls, sometimes flicking his thumb over the now exposed head. He alternated between watching Harry's flushed expression and watching the reaction of his body as his moans grew louder. It twisted under him as if it were trying to dig into the blanket, looking for some sort of purchase, his free leg splayed out even wider, his heel digging into the bed as his free hand gripped tighter into the bed clothes.  
  
"Harder," Harry moaned. "Please."  
  
Draco tightened his grip harder than he would have thought was comfortable but Harry only moaned louder and thrust his hips into the strokes.  
  
"Good, oh... yes... so... Drac... oh... ooh!" he groaned in satisfaction.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Marks We Bear Ch10  - Sunday 5th Oct cont.**  
   
Harry's entire body seemed to convulse against him almost knocking him aside and Draco watched in amazement until he stilled, seeming to slump completely as if every muscle were spent. Even the hand that had consistently gripped his own through the whole encounter fell slack.    
   
Draco leant down to kiss him. Harry's breath gasped across his face, still ragged. He drew back again and unconsciously brought his hand to his lips. Strong... the smell and the taste. He glanced down at his hand, that smell... suddenly he jerked back from Harry, the blood draining out of his face.    
   
"No, not now," he thought wildly as the vivid memory of wood against his back hit him once more. That hand under his nose, touching his cheek, that smell, that voice...    
   
Draco pulled away gagging, clutching his hands hard around his stomach. Harry's eyes were half open, looking at him in a sleepy confusion. Draco grabbed for the invisibility cloak and half fell, half leapt off the bed and vanished. Harry pulled himself up on his elbows looking confused then started searching the bed for his glasses. He found them, wiped at his stomach with the blankets and pulled his pyjama bottoms back on, then he grabbed his wand and ran after Draco.    
   
When he left the dorm he heard the noise of retching from the bathrooms. Tiptoeing in he found Draco kneeling on the floor of one of the cubicles, the invisibility cloak puddled around him. He was leaning forward against the bowl of the toilet with his forehead resting on his arm.    
   
Panic ran through Harry mixed with a healthy dose of paranoia. "Draco? Are you okay? Did I..." _...do something wrong? Did you hate it so much?_  
   
Draco slumped down further, bending his head to his knees. "Why does he always have to be there?" he whispered. "He's ruining everything. Why couldn't he just stay dead?"    
   
Harry didn't really understand what Draco was talking about, but it didn't sound like it was something he had done so he crept forward and knelt to lay a hand on Draco's shoulder. The other boy was trembling. "I don't understand. Who do you mean?"    
   
Draco just clutched himself tighter. "I've spoiled everything, haven't I? I didn't mean to."    
   
"It's okay, don't worry about it." Harry went over to the sinks and came back with a glass of water. "Here, drink this."    
   
Draco took the water and drank it then slumped against Harry, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder. "I hate the smell of vomit," he complained weakly. "My nose stings."    
   
"Doesn't smell too great from here either." Harry knelt up to flush the toilet then pulled out his wand, lifted Draco's chin and pointed it at him. "Abluto Vomit. So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" His words were brusque but his tone was gentle and his hands smoothed Draco's hair out of his eyes.    
   
Draco refused to hold his gaze and instead leant forward to rest against him again. "Don't ask me, Harry. Please."    
   
Harry held him for a moment, wondering if he should push him to talk about it. He had a feeling this was something to do with Voldemort, but he had no idea what. Something awful to have such an effect on him. Was it the same thing that had driven him to cut himself? He was afraid to push in case he couldn't deal with the results, in case Draco really wasn't ready to tell him and he did more harm than good. Nothing had ever happened to Harry that was so bad it would make him want to hurt himself, not even Cedric's death last term although thinking about it still made him sick. But not so sick he actually threw up, not since it had actually happened. Finally he decided to let it lie for now. "Come on, let's go back to bed," he whispered. "You're cold."    
   
Draco let Harry draw him to his feet and then throw the Invisibility cloak back around him. When they got back to the bed and tried to climb in they found the curtains wouldn't open for them.    
   
"What?" said Harry, confused.    
   
"It's the charm, it only works from the outside," Draco explained.    
   
"Oh." Harry fished out his wand. "Good thing I brought this with me or we'd be sleeping on the floor." He pointed at the curtains and said, "Finite incantatum."    
   
Behind the curtains next to them he heard Neville mutter something and he pulled Draco back into bed and quickly reapplied the charm. He didn't bother with any light, just took off his glasses and put them and his wand on a ledge on the headboard then removed the invisibility cloak and pulled Draco under the covers. He was pliable but distant as if trapped in some memory that he couldn't quite pull himself out of. "You okay, Draco?" Harry asked.    
   
"Not really," Draco answered.    
   
"Is there anything I can do?" Harry wrapped himself as close to Draco as he could get.    
   
"Just be there, you do enough just by being there. I don't think there's anything else that would help." Draco snuggled close against him, no spark of his previous arousal returning despite the intimate contact. "I'm sorry I spoiled your night."    
   
"You didn't spoil anything, it was incredible."    
   
Something tense inside Draco unwound a little. "Can we... can we try again another time?"    
   
Harry breathed his own silent sigh of relief. "Of course, I was worried you wouldn't want to."    
   
"I just... have some things I need to work around. I don't want them to get in the way but sometimes they just... sometimes they won't stay out of my mind." Draco decided that was as close to an explanation as he could give.    
   
"You could tell me..."    
   
"No! No, I couldn't. I can't." _If I told you how polluted I am then why would you ever want to touch me again. How could you stand to kiss me if you knew who had been there before you._ "I know you just want to help but I... have my reasons. I can't talk about this." _Please let it go._  
   
"It's okay, you don't have to. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." Harry stroked his hair and kissed his face.    
   
_"If only that were true,"_ Draco thought.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Monday 6th Oct    
   
The next day, after intense discussion about it before getting up that morning, Harry and Draco ate apart. Draco had insisted that it would be simpler for Harry to spend his mealtimes with his old friends and his own house and that he was quite capable of surviving without him during the day on the understanding that they could sleep together at night. Harry knew he was right, but at the same time he missed him desperately when they were apart to an extent that it was almost ridiculous. It were as if he had grown dependant on the physical contact they had shared and on the warm glow it gave him just to know his presence was so needed, he had become addicted to it, obsessed by it. It wasn't so bad when he was in classes but at mealtimes when he could see Draco sitting across the room he could almost feel his touch and it made his skin burn.    
   
The day seemed to drag endlessly until dinner was finally over and he waited for Draco at the door from the Great Hall, it was time for Draco's detention with Dumbledore. Draco seemed distracted when he met him, and not a little anxious. They walked in silence up the stairs to Dumbledore's office and waited outside for someone to let them through the password protected gargoyle. As they waited Harry reached out nervously, wondering if Draco would allow it here in the corridor, and took Draco's hand. He simply couldn't fight the need for some sort of physical contact any longer. Draco looked down at their joined hands curiously but didn't pull away, he even squeezed Harry's fingers lightly in response. Harry smiled and let his thumb stroke over the back of Draco's hand in a mixture of reassurance and desire. Even the importance of the upcoming meeting with Dumbledore couldn't thwart his anticipation of what might happen later tonight.    
   
The door opened in front of them and Professor Dumbledore looked down at the two boys with a curious but friendly expression. "Well," he said. "One more than I had expected, but I suppose you had better both come in." He turned and led them up the moving staircase to his office.    
   
Harry let go of Draco's hand at the top of the stairs and they sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk. Harry twisted his hands together in his lap, already missing the contact.    
   
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Dumbledore asked him. "Unless I am much mistaken this is Mr Malfoy's detention."    
   
Harry looked over at Draco who indicated Harry should tell him. "Draco has some things to tell you about, I'm just here for... moral support."    
   
"He means that he's here to make sure I go through with it," said Draco.    
   
"That's not true," Harry protested.    
   
"Yes," replied Draco. "It is. *I* want you here to make sure I go through with it."    
   
Harry didn't answer that, just looked at him in comprehension and nodded.    
   
"And what do you want to tell me about, Mr Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore.    
   
Harry got the impression that Dumbledore had a pretty good idea what, or rather who, this was about.    
   
"It's... about what we talked about before. My father. You said if there was any information I could give you about..."    
   
"About Lord Voldemort. And do you?"    
   
Draco stood up again and turned away from them both. He couldn't talk about Voldemort and look at them at the same time, it was too surreal. He didn't want Voldemort to be a part of his world here at school. "Yes." He paced over to he window. "He was at my house over the summer, not all the time but a lot."    
   
"At Malfoy Mansion?" asked Dumbledore sharply.    
   
"Yes. I don't know where else he visited but he was there a lot. I could always tell when he was there even if I didn't see him, everything felt colder and my mother would stay in her room all the time. The servants would get nervous and my father..." he trailed off. His father would come alive in a way he rarely had been before, crackling with excitement, a light in his eyes that frightened him. Almost feverish and slightly jumpy, there was always a little fear there mixed in with everything else. Draco understood why, with Voldemort there was always fear no matter how sure of his trust you were. For Draco there was little but fear, fear and disgust and hatred.    
   
"Draco?" said Harry.    
   
He could sense the other boys concern, his impulse to come to Draco's side. He held up his hand in Harry's direction to indicate he should stay put. "I'm fine. We had a lot of other visitors too, other Death Eaters and their families. I've prepared a list of people who visited, tried to note when if I could remember." He drew the parchment out of his robes and looked down at it. He had written it out during his free period after lunch. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you what this could do to me if anyone were to see it. I enchanted it to disguise my handwriting but the charm could be easily broken and besides... they would know it was me. Who else could it be?" He didn't give it to them, just looked at it. He was afraid. "You understand... what they would do?"    
   
"I know, Draco. You're safe here."    
   
"Am I?" his voice shook slightly.    
   
"You have my word."    
   
Draco swung round and strode to Dumbledore's desk, his face pale and his eyes burning with a mixture of fear and anger. "I don't believe you!" he told him, pleading to be convinced. "How can you stop them? Even here. You have no idea... everyone's either on their side or doesn't want to get involved. There are so many of them!" He threw the parchment onto Dumbledore's desk. "Look at it, look at the numbers, look at the power he has and tell me again that you can keep me safe."    
   
Dumbledore picked up the parchment and glanced over it. It was very detailed.    
   
"He's coming here, coming for Harry."    
   
Dumbledore looked up at him with a patient expression. "I know."    
   
"What?"    
   
"I am not as out of the loop as you may imagine, Draco. Most of the names on this list are known to me as Death Eaters already. I suspected Voldemort was spending time at Malfoy Mansion although I could not be sure. And I know that they have an attack planned on the school although it's exact intent I could only theorise."    
   
Draco sat back down as if his strings had been cut. "You know?"    
   
"I know," confirmed Dumbledore. "I understand why this is hard for you, Draco. You have spent a great deal of time being assured of my incompetence. However perhaps there is one teacher you have some respect for?" At that there was a knock at the door. "And here he is, just in time." Dumbledore gestured to the door and it opened to reveal Professor Snape. "Severus, do come in."    
   
Professor Snape entered and summoned another chair to the side of the desk next to Draco. "Headmaster. Mr Malfoy. Potter."    
   
"Thank you for joining us, Severus. The boys and I were about to discuss this weekends impending visitors."    
   
Snape looked over the two boys. "You are sure this is wise? If the boy were to change his mind..."    
   
"Draco is risking as much, if not more, than you are, Severus. I do not believe he will betray you."    
   
Draco looked at them in confusion, not understanding what was meant but touched by Dumbledore's confidence in him. He only wished he trusted himself as much as everyone else seemed to. "I don't understand," he said.    
   
"You are not the only spy Voldemort believes he has in Hogwarts," Dumbledore answered. "Severus is also in contact with him."    
   
"He never said, I thought I was the only person he had."    
   
"I was also unaware of your presence, Mr Malfoy," said Snape. "The Dark Lord likes to keep his cards close to his chest. What information has he given you on this weekends activities?"    
   
"I don't know anything, only that there was a plan. He just said I was to..." he ground to a halt. He hadn't been planning to tell them his orders, he hadn't even told Harry. They were his insurance. But he realised that he had a new insurance... Snape. If things went badly he could turn Snape in as the traitor. But that would only work if it looked as if he had tried to do his job, if they knew he not only hadn't taken Harry's wand but hadn't warned them of his failure... "If I don't do what I'm told they'll find out."    
   
"I told you, Draco. We will protect you from your father."    
   
"It's not my father I'm afraid of."    
   
"They are not going to succeed in their attack. We are ready for them."    
   
"Maybe... and if it comes to a choice between me and Harry who will you protect then?" he asked bitterly. "Sometimes you can't save everyone... you can't be everywhere. You didn't save Diggory, you didn't save Harry's parents!"    
   
"Draco." Harry's voice was strained.    
   
He turned to look at him, he'd almost forgotten he was there. "Harry." For a moment they stared at one another, Harry pale and Draco flushed. "I..." his legs suddenly didn't feel strong enough to support him. Harry looked shocked and afraid and suddenly Draco's anger was gone and all that was left was the fear and a deep exhaustion. "I don't want him to hurt me any more," he whispered. "I can't go back there. I'd rather die." He let his weight carry him to the floor with his back leaning against the desk, the feel of the wood grain against his back called up memories that made him feel even weaker. "But I'm afraid of that too."    
   
Harry was off his chair and at his side before Dumbledore made it around the desk. Snape hovered uncertainly behind them all like a large bat. "You don't have to go back there," Harry told him, taking his face in his hands to force him to look at him. "You never have to go back there, I promise."    
   
Draco brought his own hands up, one around Harry's wrist and the other against Harry's cheek. "I want to believe you but I don't know how," he told him sadly.    
   
"Believe me," Harry demanded. "Haven't I always won before?"    
   
"What about Diggory?" Draco asked, hating to bring up something that he knew would hurt him but unable not to.    
   
Harry's eyes swam and he closed them against the pain of memory. Then he met Draco's eyes again. "I was alone and none of us were expecting an attack. We're ready this time, we know Voldemort's back, we know he's coming for me. This time it will be different."    
   
"Why?"    
   
"Because it has to be."    
   
But Draco could see fear in Harry's eyes. "You're afraid too," he observed sadly.    
   
"There's nothing wrong with being afraid," said Harry. "But you can't just give up."    
   
Draco tried to let Harry's strength bolster him. "What do you want me to do?"    
   
"Tell me what he asked you to do? Tell me what he wants?"    
   
Draco laughed harshly, gripping Harry tightly. "He wants you dead, what else would he want of you? You're an irritant, a thorn in his side, an embarrassment. The Boy Who Wouldn't Die."    
Behind them Dumbledore asked quietly, "What does he want of you, Draco?"    
   
Draco's face turned grey and cold, he couldn't seem to keep track of what he was talking about. "I don't know. He has my father... why does he want me too? I don't understand him. I don't want to, I just never want to see him again."    
   
Behind them all Snape stepped back as a look of understanding passed across his face. He was the only one of the three who had been a real part of Voldemort's world. Dumbledore might have some faint idea of his proclivities, but not to the extent that he did. He had seen first hand where Voldemort's twisted obsessions had taken him, though he had never been touched by them. But a young, pretty, pure-blooded boy like Draco? It was too much to hope that Voldemort had been able to resist.    
   
Draco let go of Harry and rubbed his face with his hands. "If you give me my wand back I'll tell you what you want to know," he said harshly. "Without my wand I'm a sitting target."    
   
"I won't bargain with you for information, Draco," answered Dumbledore.    
   
"Just give it back to me!" shouted Draco in desperate anger. "What right do you have to take it! I'm only here at this school to be away from him, I'm not here to play at the good student. I'm not a child any more. I'm risking my life just by talking to you, I took my life in my hands just trying to persuade him not to give me the Dark Mark, to send me back here at all! He's destroyed everything I ever had and you won't even give me the only thing I have to protect myself with! Why should I trust you? You knew my father was a Death Eater and you let me go home to him, I was just a child, what did I know? What did I know about good and evil? You knew!" By the end Draco was on his feet with Harry desperately clinging to his arm trying to get him to stop shouting.    
   
"Draco..." Dumbledore began but he was stopped by Snape's hand on his shoulder.    
   
"Headmaster, if I may have a moment with Draco."    
   
They all looked at him in surprise but Dumbledore nodded and gestured to Harry to follow him out the room. Harry looked to Draco, unwilling to leave but Draco shrugged him off.    
   
"Go on, I'll be fine."    
   
Harry didn't look convinced that Draco was going to be at all fine but allowed Dumbledore to draw him out of the room.    
   
When they were gone Snape sat back down and gestured to Draco to sit down as well.    
   
Draco slumped back in his chair. "What is it? Going to tell me how you understand cause you've met him too? Somehow I really doubt it's the same."    
   
"I know it's not the same," said Snape quietly. "I think I know what he's done to you, I've seen him do it before."    
   
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Draco stubbornly.    
   
"I had forgotten," Snape continued. "It's been so long and I only saw it a few times. But of course he would take a liking to you, you look so like your father and he never could keep his hands off your father."    
   
Draco stared at Snape in shock.    
   
"You should try and talk about it, Draco. It might help."    
   
"With you?"    
   
"With anyone, with me if you want."    
   
"I... you know... about him and father?"    
   
"Yes, I know. Lucius always adored the attention, power was what interested him and Voldemort had plenty of that. He grew more careless about it over the years as he rationalised it away from the homosexuality he despised into a lust for those who carried strong magic and pure-blood. He always felt women were the weaker sex, only beautiful, pure-blooded men were good enough for him. It always amazed me that Lucius allowed it, even enjoyed it. Most of his... partners... submitted out of fear."    
   
Draco was in shock at this candid discussion of what he had thought of as his private nightmare. "There were... others?"    
   
"You're not the first pretty boy that's caught the Dark Lord's eye. I'm just surprised your father let it happen."    
   
"I... I don't think he knows."    
   
Snape nodded. "You never told him."    
   
"How could I? I barely spoke to my father all summer. I barely spoke to anyone. They never seemed to notice, I think they didn't care as long as I was doing as I was told." Draco's voice sounded dead even to himself and he wondered why he was still talking. He wondered why he was still breathing. Surely this wasn't real life? This wasn't his life was it?    
   
"I can't speak for your parents, but there are people here who care what happens to you. People who will listen when you want to talk about this."    
   
"And if I don't want to talk about it?"    
   
"Then you don't have to."    
   
"There's nothing to talk about," Draco told him. "Not about... that. It wasn't what you think... he didn't..." he couldn't put into words what he was trying to say. "I guess he probably would have eventually, I overheard him once with... with my father. They were... doing stuff... together. All he did was... touch me... sometimes." Draco was trembling even explaining that much. "I stayed out of his way as much as I could."    
   
Snape nodded. "It still hurt you though."    
   
"I felt so... helpless. I couldn't stand to be in the same room as him never mind have him touch me and yet..." Draco shook his head, clutching his arms tightly. "It doesn't matter, I don't want to talk about it."    
   
Snape's sharp gaze bored into him. "Don't feel responsible for the reactions of your body... we are all betrayed by it on occasion."    
   
Draco was shocked that Snape realised what he had refused to say. "I just wish I could stop remembering it," he told him. "But then I remember some of the things I did this summer and I think maybe I'm supposed to remember it as punishment."    
   
"If you let them the memories will fade, in time. There are charms... but in truth it is healthier to allow the mind to create it's own solutions. Perhaps after all this is over we can arrange something to make the memories less vivid."    
   
"If we survive," said Draco pessimistically.    
   
"You should trust Dumbledore, he will protect you. He'll protect both of us."    
   
"He can't protect me from what I've already done."    
   
"What happened wasn't your fault."    
   
"Yes, it was," Draco spat. "Do you think Harry would have let that happen to him? Do you think he would have done the things I've done just to survive? He'd have died first!"    
   
"And where would he be then?" Snape retorted. "Heroic but dead! We're Slytherins, that's not our way."    
   
"You don't understand... you don't know what I've done."    
   
"Then tell me," said Snape. "Tell me so that I can tell you it doesn't matter and we can get on with things. Tell me and then tell me what Voldemort asked you to do for this weekend."    
   
"I want my wand back."    
   
"I'll get you your damned wand back before it all happens, just tell me!"    
   
Draco sighed, this conversation wasn't getting him anywhere, all trying to keep his orders quiet seemed to have done was lead him to say other things he didn't want anyone to know about. "He just wants me to take Harry's wand before Friday. He said he didn't care what I did as long as Harry couldn't use his wand." His anger still bubbled near the surface. "And unless you stop me by force I'm going to do it, why shouldn't I? I know what he'll do to me if I don't, I'd rather face your anger than his. What does it matter if Harry has his wand or not, he's not powerful enough to stand up to a Death Eater with or without it. Either you'll protect him or you'll fail, his wand won't help him either way. But taking it might save my life."    
   
"Save it for what?" asked Snape cruelly. "So you can go back with him and celebrate his victory?"    
   
Draco's determined expression died and the haunted look came back.    
   
Snape sighed. "Stop fighting us. If you're really not a child then act like it, take a stand whether you're afraid or not. It doesn't matter what happened before, you think there aren't things in my past that haunt me? You've had one summer with the Dark Lord, I spent years on his side first out of stupidity and then out of fear."    
   
Draco stared at him for a while wondering how many regrets you would end up with after so long with Voldemort. "How did you get away?" Draco asked finally, although what he had meant to ask was 'How did you survive?'.    
   
"I put my trust in the one man that Voldemort fears, Dumbledore. Can you?"    
   
"I don't know. What if he fails?"    
   
"Then you'll be no worse off than you are already. In service to Voldemort is no place for you, don't try and tell me you could live with it. I can already see that you can't. His favour would destroy you almost as quickly as his anger and probably in a far more unpleasant way."    
   
Draco simply stared at him in hope and desperation.    
   
"On Saturday you and Harry will be hidden in the safest place we can find. Neither of you will be facing Voldemort this time. The attack is expected and it *will* fail."    
   
"Won't this blow your cover too?"    
   
Snape tapped his long fingers against his leg nervously. "In theory, no. I will open a hole in the wards on Saturday as I have been instructed to. I have not been ordered to do anything more. I will stay out of the fight unless it becomes absolutely necessary."    
   
"And if you do have to join it which side will you be fighting on?"    
   
Snape sighed. "It is not your problem any more, your involvement in this is over. Let us take care of things now. All we need from you is that you make sure Lucius and Voldemort think everything is going to plan. After this weekend you can stop pretending and let those of us who have chosen this role do the worrying. We will protect you and Harry."    
   
Draco didn't reply, he simply nodded his acquiescence, but he was deep in thought. Dumbledore had been right to assume that Snape was one of the few Hogwarts teachers he considered worth listening to and more than that, one of the few teachers that seemed to understand him. His simple comprehension and acceptance, without over analysis or excessive pity, of what had happened to Draco over the summer left him feeling strangely comforted. Maybe he could get past this after all, maybe he could do this. Snape had done it, he had escaped and lived to tell the tale and then returned to the fight. Still sane despite whatever had happened in his past.    
   
Still, there was one thing Draco was not convinced of. He was sure that his role in this was not over and would never be as long as Voldemort and his father were still around. This fight was a part of his heritage and whichever side he chose he would always be a part of it, just like Harry could never escape it.    
   
He knew that come this Saturday, no matter where they hid, he and Harry would never be completely safe.


	11. Chapter 11

  
**The Marks We Bear Ch11 -** **Monday 6th Oct cont.**  
   
"Do you ever feel the same, do you ever wonder what I think  
My darling Red Angel  
No fear in your eyes, no smoke in your hair  
My darling Red Angel.  
Thank you for loving without hurting."    
\- Red Angel by Gavin

http://www.deezer.com/track/9576385  
   
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Once they had both been dismissed Harry and Draco found themselves alone in the dim corridor. Draco looked around, feeling a little disoriented.    
   
"Are you okay?" asked Harry laying his hand on Draco's shoulder. "What did Snape say to you?"    
   
Draco pulled himself together enough to look at Harry although his expression was still dazed. "I'm fine," he answered. He looked down at Harry's hand and absently brought his own up to cover it. "Fine."    
   
"You keep saying that and I really don't believe you," Harry told him. "Did you tell Snape what he wanted to know?"    
   
"I told him what my instructions were if that's what you mean," Draco answered.    
   
"And?"    
   
"What?" Draco looked up in confusion.    
   
"Well, what are they? Or are you not going to tell me," replied Harry in frustration.    
   
"Oh, right. They want me to take your wand, I don't know why."    
   
A dark cloud passed over Harry's face. "I know why."    
   
"More secrets," said Draco in a hollow tone.    
   
"No... I'll tell you..."    
   
"No!" said Draco sharply, stopping him. "It's okay, I don't want to know. I'm tired of talking about Voldemort, I wish I'd never even heard his name." He looked around the corridor again thoughtfully. "Let's get out of here. I want to forget about all this stuff... let's go to your Common Room and irritate Weasley. That always cheers me up."    
   
"I really don't think starting a fight with Ron is going to help," Harry said doubtfully.    
   
"I didn't say I was going to start a fight, just being there will bug the hell out of him. It'll be fun."    
   
"You have a very twisted sense of humour."    
   
"What can I say," Draco said with a hard look in his eyes. "I'm a twisted person." He turned away, pulling Harry with him by the hand. "Come on. It'll piss Finnegan off too, that'll teach him to throw food at me."    
   
Harry followed after Draco, wishing he could keep up with the other boy's mood swings. He was sure there was stuff they should be talking about but it looked like that would have to wait till Draco was in a more introspective frame of mind.    
   
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In the common room Hermione had finally cornered Seamus and was attempting to smooth over the current situation without telling him anything Harry wouldn't want him to know.    
   
"So you want me to be nice to Malfoy, even though you and Ron still don't like him, because Harry thinks he deserves a second chance cause he hasn't been such an asshole as he usually is," Seamus tried to sum up Hermione's argument.    
   
"Well... sort of."    
   
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I just don't get it. Why don't you go tell Harry to stop being an eedjit instead of trying to get everyone else to put up with it? I know he's our friend but why should we put up with him putting Malfoy before us?"    
   
"He's not," Hermione tried to explain. "It's just that... Malfoy isn't trying to tell him who he can be friends with and you guys are and that's not fair. You have to let him make up his mind for himself."    
   
"But he's wrong!" protested Seamus. "Besides I didn't tell him not to be friends with Malfoy, Ron already told me to back off on Harry. I just threw potato at Malfoy, nothing wrong with that."    
   
Hermione sighed, this was just going in circles. "In theory, no there's nothing wrong with throwing food at Malfoy. It's not like he hasn't asked for it. It's just that Harry gets all upset that you don't want Malfoy around and I don't want him to go back to sitting at the Slytherin table."    
   
"It's not my fault Harry's being all sensitive about it."    
   
Just then they were interrupted by the rest of the room falling completely silent. They turned around to see what was going on and there stood Draco Malfoy, Harry stepped in behind him and closed the door. For a long moment everyone just stared at each other.    
   
"Well..." said Draco finally with a raised eyebrow. "It's delightful to see you all again too." He made his way through the crowd of silent figures towards where Hermione and Seamus were standing, followed by a concerned looking Harry. "Granger, Finnegan." He nodded to them.    
   
Hermione's eyes flicked to Harry where he stood slightly behind Malfoy, hovering uncertainly. "Malfoy," she nodded to him in response. "How was your detention?"    
 He eyed her, Harry would likely have told her and Weasley why they were meeting with Dumbledore tonight. "Informative," he answered shortly.    
   
"I thought Ron had detention with you," said Seamus in a challenging tone. "Where is he?"    
   
"Separate detentions tonight," Draco replied civilly, giving Seamus a cool look. "I guess I got finished first." He refrained from the sarcastic comment that automatically sprang to his lips, he'd told Harry he wasn't going to start a fight. Now that he was here he was beginning to regret his impulse, the jumpiness caused by the tense meeting was beginning to wear off and he really just wanted to find a nice quiet corner to curl up with Harry in. He looked around the room, it was pretty full and there were no empty seats.    
   
Hermione studied the two of them. Malfoy had seemed cocky when he'd walked in, but now he looked strained and pale as his eyes flicked over the room. Harry looked worried and she got the impression that he wanted to reach out to the boy next to him but was holding back due to the presence of so many other people, his hand hovered by Malfoy's but didn't make contact. She also got the impression Seamus was about to say something he shouldn't and stepped in before he could. "It's pretty busy down here," she said. "Why don't we go up to your room and sit down?" As the words left her mouth she almost giggled at the thought of the similar reactions both her father and Ron would have if they'd heard that. Well her father wasn't here and she could deal with Ron.    
   
Malfoy looked at her in surprise and maybe even a little gratitude as Harry agreed with her. The three of them trooped upstairs and into the boy's dormitory where Hermione sat primly on the edge of Ron's empty bed.    
   
Draco threw himself untidily onto Harry's bed and buried his head in the pillows with a moan of relief and comfort. Harry sat down next to him and reached out to lay his hand on Draco's shoulder but then stopped himself, leaving it hovering as he looked over at Hermione.    
   
"Don't let me stop you," she said. "Just keep it clean, Ron's already laid down the law about you and Malfoy being alone in this room together."    
   
Draco raised his head as Harry let his hand drop onto his shoulder. "What did you say?" he said in surprise.    
   
"Ron was a little traumatised by last time," Hermione said with an amused smile. "He said if you wanted to hang out together you could do it where we could keep an eye on you."    
   
At that Draco laughed and when he caught Harry's eye even Harry couldn't keep from allowing a mischievous grin to cross his face at the thought of what they had done only last night behind closed curtains while Ron slept in the next bed.    
   
"So you're our chaperone are you?" asked Harry with a smile, his hand moving almost of it's own accord to stroke the skin at the nape of Draco's neck.    
   
Draco bowed his head slightly to give him better access. "Maybe she just likes to watch," he suggested slyly, giving Hermione a teasing look that she almost missed for the fine hair falling across his face.    
   
"Draco!" exclaimed Harry in embarrassment.    
   
Hermione blushed and looked horrified at the same time. "I have no interest in seeing anything you might want to do to Harry," she informed him.    
   
Harry shook his head. "Nobody is doing anything to anyone, especially in front of Hermione."    
   
Draco turned onto his side, catching the hand that Harry had on his neck and bringing it to his lips. "Spoilsport," he said and then kissed it.    
   
"Quit fooling around," said Harry mildly, not pulling his hand away. "I know you're just trying to wind us up and it's not working."    
   
Draco smiled. "I don't know," he nodded in Hermione's direction. "She looks a bit flustered to me."    
   
"Revolted more like," retorted Hermione, although Draco was right. She was a bit flustered. She decided to change the subject. "So how did your meeting with Dumbledore go?"    
   
That shut Draco up more than she had expected, in fact his entire face closed up and he let go of Harry's hand. "It went fine," he said shortly, rolling back onto his stomach.    
   
Harry was looking concerned again, he stroked Draco's back tentatively. "We told Dumbledore what we could," he told Hermione. "I... Draco?"    
   
"Tell her what you want, I'm done talking about it," Draco snapped, his voice muffled by the pillow.    
   
"You're sure?" asked Harry. There was no answer and he leant down for a moment to press his cheek to Draco's hair, stroking his hands up his arms to where they were buried under Harry's pillow. "Draco?" he asked softly.    
   
"It's up to you, I don't care," the other boy answered quietly, but he allowed Harry to retrieve one hand from under the pillow and clasp it in his own.    
   
Harry gestured Hermione to join them on the bed and closed the curtains. "I've got silencing charms on the curtains," he told her. "I don't want anyone to over hear this." Once they were settled and had lit their wands he said, "There's going to be an attack this Saturday. You can't tell anyone else, no-one can know that we're expecting it. Dumbledore's ready for it, he said he'll make sure we're out of the way."    
   
Hermione digested this for a moment. "Why are they attacking?"    
   
"They want Harry," said Draco into the pillow.    
   
"You're sure?" she gasped.    
   
"It seems like it," confirmed Harry. "They told Draco to make sure I don't have my wand, which means Voldemort wants to avoid what happened last time he tried to kill me."    
   
Staring at the blank swirls in front of his closed eyes Draco wondered what had happened last time but he wasn't up to actually hearing about it, he just wished he already knew. Finally he rolled over. "I don't want to know everything that happened," he stated. "Just tell me why your wand's so important."    
   
Harry looked down at him then at the wand he held in his hand. "It's connected to Voldemort's wand, both of them contain a tail feather from the same phoenix."    
   
Draco looked at Harry's wand. "I've read about that, my father had an old book in his study about it that he was reading. He never told me why."    
   
"Then they've been researching it," said Hermione.    
   
"Why doesn't he just get a new wand and use that to kill me with?" asked Harry.    
   
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not that simple, Harry. You can't just use any old wand, you ought to know that."    
   
"Especially for dangerous spells like the Killing Curse," added Draco. "It's draining at the best of times and with an unfamiliar wand it could easily backfire, leave you too weak to defend yourself."    
   
There was a moments silence. "You sound as if you're speaking from experience," said Hermione finally.    
   
Draco looked at her and the depth of sorrow in his eyes made her regret her words. He looked as if he were trying to find a reply but eventually he just rolled away from them both.    
   
Harry gave her an angry look and leant down to put his arm around Draco and whisper in his ear, "I'm sorry, she didn't mean to..."    
   
"Don't apologise." Draco cut him off. "How do you know she's not right."    
   
Harry stiffened, his hand tightening around Draco. "Is she?" he asked.    
   
"Ask me," said Draco simply.    
   
"I... I thought I just did."    
   
Draco turned around and sat up, his body tense. "Have I ever used the killing curse? Is that what you want to know?" he asked them both.    
   
Harry just stared at him numbly.    
   
"Have you?" asked Hermione.    
   
Draco stared at her as if he had never seen her before and then his gaze shifted as if he were seeing something very far away. He wanted to tell them this, how could he choose sides without knowing whether they could accept who he really was, what he had done. "Yes," he answered.    
   
"A lot?" Hermione pressed as Harry just sat and stared at Draco.    
   
"Once," Draco whispered. "Just once. To prove to them that I was loyal."    
   
"Prove to who?"    
   
"Voldemort... Voldemort and my father."    
   
"Who did you kill?" Hermione was as pale as Draco, horrified yet unable to stop talking just as he seemed unable to stop answering her.    
   
"I didn't know her name," he said. He reached out his hand to something neither of the others could see, as if framing the shape of a face. "She was a Muggle, she was crying."    
   
"Why?" asked Harry finally, hoarsely. "Why did you do it?"    
   
Draco broke away from whatever vision he was seeing and turned to Harry, the horror the others felt mirrored in his own grey eyes. "They would have killed her anyway," he said directly to Harry. "They would have killed her and then they would have killed me," he pleaded for some small measure of understanding.    
   
"But your father..."    
   
"My father has no power over Voldemort." Doubts crossed his mind as to whether his father would even try to intervene if Voldemort had chosen to end the life of his only son.    
   
"Then you had no choice," Harry said desperately.    
   
Draco longed to believe that but found he couldn't, his self-loathing over this was too great to accept solace. "There's always a choice," he said bitterly. "I took the one that would save my skin."    
   
There didn't seem to be anything else to say, they just sat there staring at one another. When the dorm room was thrown open with a loud bang they all jumped.    
   
"I'm coming into the room!" announced Ron very loudly. "I'm stepping through the door right now!"    
   
Hermione moved to open the curtains around the bed, Ron was standing in the doorway with his hand over his eyes.    
   
"I'm going to look in a minute and if anyone doesn't have their clothes on there's going to be trouble," Ron said to the room in general.    
   
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Hermione impatiently. "Nothing's going on."    
   
Ron uncovered his eyes and looked over at them. "I thought I told you not to let them come up here any more," he accused her.    
   
Draco had dropped back down onto the bed, hiding his face, but Harry was still sat in the same position with the same look of horror on his face. He didn't even look up at Ron.    
   
"I'm right here with them, Ron. What do you think they're going to do?"    
   
"They're on the bed together!" Ron said as if that explained everything.    
   
"We were talking."    
   
Back, behind the darkness of his eyelids and the soft smothering of Harry's pillow, Draco could only half hear what Ron and Hermione were saying. He could feel Harry's eyes on his back but could not imagine what the other boy was thinking, didn't dare to. He had a horrible feeling that it was all over but he wouldn't leave, not until Harry asked him to. Every member of Gryffindor House could troop up here and argue about it but he wasn't going anywhere until Harry told him to go. Because when he left here, when he got up from this bed with it's scent of Harry, there would be only one place left to go. Maybe he could just bury his head deep enough in this pillow that he couldn't breath any more and he would die here with Harry watching him and never need to find out what he was thinking. He stopped breathing for a while to see if he could, pulling the pillow tight around his face with his arms.    
   
Harry studied the rumpled folds of Draco's robes, the soft silver of his hair. His mind was buzzing with a hundred thoughts and feelings and as an underplay to all of them was an echo of memory. A woman's voice crying out, a flash of green light, over and over and over. He could see the soft lift of Draco's shoulders as he breathed. Part of him couldn't accept that the troubled boy on his bed, the boy he'd spent the last two nights sleeping beside, could have killed someone in cold blood. Part of him said, of course, what did you expect? You should be surprised it was only once, you should be amazed that he even told you. He could have kept his mouth shut and you would never have known. He wished he had, he didn't want to know. But he knew why he hadn't, he had seen what hiding this had been doing to Draco. Eating away at him, making him hate himself, making him hurt himself. Harry's eyes flicked down to Draco's thigh, he hadn't asked him how it was since he had bound it over a week ago. What had he been thinking, he should have checked on it. Changed the dressings. He looked back up to Draco's shoulders allowing his concern for Draco's well-being to blot out his confused thoughts. He looked again for the hypnotic heave and sigh of Draco's shoulders but couldn't find it. The other boy's body was utterly still. Harry frowned, waiting for him to breathe in. Nothing... still nothing... nothing!    
   
_"Nothing,"_ Draco thought to himself. His chest was tight now, at first it had been easy then the pressure had started to grow. It had become an ache in his diaphragm as it fought his conscious instruction not to move. He clenched his teeth together against the growing impulse to draw breath. There was no pain and yet it hurt desperately.    
   
"Draco," cried Harry in panic, his hand flying to the other boy's shoulder to haul him over onto his front.    
   
Draco gulped air out of sheer surprise as Harry literally threw him onto his back. "Harry?"    
   
Harry stared at him in relief. "You weren't breathing!"    
   
Draco just stared at him.    
   
Harry touched his cheek as if to reassure himself it was still warm. "You scared me."    
   
"I'm sorry," said Draco, the simple phrase seemed to cover far more than this moment.    
   
Harry swallowed nervously as he held the other boy's eyes. "I know," he said. "But I can't forgive you."    
   
Draco looked stricken.    
   
"No, I didn't mean... I mean that it's not up to me. I can't forgive you, and she's gone now so she can't forgive you either."    
   
"Then there is no forgiveness," said Draco.    
   
"You're wrong," Harry told him. "You can forgive yourself."    
   
"How can I?"    
   
"Because it wasn't your fault, you said it yourself. She still would have died."    
   
"I tortured her!"    
   
Harry fell silent again.    
   
"What are they talking about?" Ron asked Hermione quietly.    
   
"It doesn't matter," she said. "I think we should leave, this is private."    
   
"I'm not leaving them here alone," he protested.    
   
"I really don't think they're going to be doing anything you wouldn't approve of. In fact I think you may finally get your wish."    
   
"What wish?"    
   
"That Harry would quit hanging out with Malfoy."    
   
"Oh... well, good," said Ron, letting Hermione lead him out, but the part of him that cared more about Harry than it did about whether Malfoy was an arsehole or not couldn't help but think that anything that made Harry look so unhappy couldn't be a good thing.    
   
Harry looked around as Ron and Hermione closed the door behind them, he stared after them. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me what happened, tell me it all."    
   
Draco looked at the back of Harry's head wondering why he was doing this. Harry had been ready to let it pass, to accept his confession, and he had refused that. Refused to let him. Snape had said it didn't matter, why couldn't he have accepted that. Had Snape ever told anyone the things he had done? Probably not, he wasn't that stupid. He had a much better sense of self-preservation. Draco got the feeling he was pushing for something and that it was probably some form of punishment. Self-destruction. He wondered if maybe it was fear of going up against Voldemort, if he drove Harry away he wouldn't have to choose, wouldn't have to fight. He could just curl up and rot in peace. "Why do you want to know?" he asked Harry.    
   
"Because until you tell me everything we can't talk about this."    
   
"Everything?"    
   
"Everything that you're hiding from me, everything that's eating away at you, everything that makes you cut yourself and throw up when you remember it and wake in the night screaming."    
   
Draco sat up feeling reckless. "Look at me," he said.    
   
Harry turned around to see Draco unbuttoning his robes. "What are you doing?"    
   
"It's all right here," Draco said. "Everything you do leaves it's mark." He uncovered his chest and pointed to a shiny pink scar over his heart. "It started here," he explained and then he told Harry everything that had happened that first time he met Lord Voldemort.    
   
From there he moved from scar to scar, explaining in a distant voice and without meeting Harry's eyes what each one meant from the first, fading, tentative attempts to cleanse himself of Voldemort's touch to the deep livid scar on his belly when he had considered ending his own life in payment for the one he had taken. Then on to the more confident and planned cuts that like the first few self-inflicted marks would eventually vanish altogether, memories of forced kisses and his skin crawling under caresses he was too frightened to refuse. This one to try and force the sound of his father's hoarse cries of pleasure, overheard through the study door, out of his mind. Then one that probably wouldn't fade away completely, he told Harry about whispered words of endearment on breath that smelt like rotten meat as he stared at nothing. The familiar and despised feel of heavy wooden panelling behind his shoulders as he tried to ignore his body's unwanted reaction to the cold hand that reached where none but his own had ever been. The other hand tight around his neck not to hold him still but simply because it liked to see him fight for breathe a little, liked the way it made him gasp as if he welcomed the attention being given to him. The pain of wanting not to give him the satisfaction but at the same time hoping to come as soon as possible, just so it would be over and he could escape to his room and cut it out of him. The wild, strong smell of his own body on the pale fingers as they touched his face afterwards, smearing his own fluids across his lips. He wondered if Harry had made the connection between that and his reaction just last night, he didn't look to see. There wasn't much to tell after that, he had spent more and more time away from the mansion roaming the countryside. Grew more adept at not being caught alone by Voldemort. Spent time in the local Muggle villages pretending to be one of them to the local teenagers.    
   
Then there was only one scar left. He unwound the old stained bandage that still covered it, unable to conjure new dressings he had simply left it be and cleaned around it. When he uncovered the wound it was still raw looking, a mess of scabs. It oozed a clear fluid where some of the scabs had been pulled off with the dressings.    
   
Harry gasped at the sight of it. "I don't remember it being so bad," he said in shock. "I don't understand, I thought it wasn't that serious. How could I have seen that and thought it wasn't that serious? I should have taken you straight to Madame Pomfrey."    
   
"There's a reason why you didn't," Draco told him. "That's what this mark is for, to remind me of that reason." And then he told him what he had done.    
   
When he had finished he forced his eyes away from the seeping cut on his leg and looked at Harry. "Now you know everything."    
   
"You ... drugged me?"    
   
"Yes."    
   
"To make me forgive you for hexing Ron?"    
   
"Yes."    
   
"Why? How do you know I wouldn't have forgiven you anyway?"    
   
"I thought you might but I didn't have time to find out. My father told me if I couldn't get close to you soon he'd bring me back home."    
   
Harry just stared at him. "I trusted you."    
   
Draco shook his head sadly. "No, you didn't. I made you trust me, you were under the influence of the potion. I told you I was sorry about hexing Weasley, that it had been an accident, and you believed me. I told you I was your friend and that you could trust me and you did. I told you not to blame me for what had happened. I told you that you wanted us to be friends."    
   
"You mean everything I've felt since then has been because you told me to feel it?"    
   
"No! The effects wear off, the dilution you took it at it can't have lasted longer than Friday and even then the effects weaken with time especially if it's something you were strongly opposed to before you took the potion. It's only the first 24 hours that what I say can change your mind and we only spoke twice during that time. I just wanted to make it easier for us to stay friends, I couldn't let what happened with Weasley throw everything off. I really didn't mean to hex him! And you wanted to be friends with me before then didn't you? You fixed my neck. And I never said anything to you about... about... you know. If you'd hated me before you'd taken it you'd hate me again by now." Draco pleaded with Harry to understand that it wasn't so bad even though deep inside he knew it was. How could Harry forgive him when he couldn't forgive himself?    
   
"You told me the cut wasn't serious and I believed you because of the potion," Harry said, staring at Draco's leg.    
   
"Yes, I wouldn't have told you at all otherwise, but I couldn't clean it myself without my wand."    
   
"Why didn't you lie to me about how you'd done it, you said you didn't think I'd realise."    
   
"I wanted to but I couldn't, I couldn't do it any more. Hearing you parrot back everything I said to you, I hated it. I didn't want to do it, Harry. If there had been more time..."    
   
"How did you make the potion without a wand?" Harry asked. He seemed to be in a form of information overload, he was processing the information but not the emotions that went along with it, thinking but not yet reacting.    
   
"Not all potions need a wand."    
   
At that Harry reached for his wand, lying on the bed beside them.    
   
Draco cringed back slightly wondering what Harry was going to do, he couldn't read the blank face and the downcast eyes.    
   
"I can't think straight with your leg like that, it hurts just looking at it," Harry murmured as he laid his hand on Draco's pale thigh.    
   
Draco shivered at the gentle touch, wondering if this was the last time he would feel it.    
   
"It needs quick-heal salve," Harry said as he examined it. "It's a bit infected too, you should have got the dressings changed. This might sting a little." He pointed his wand at the wound. "Defaeco Contagium."    
   
Draco hissed as a burning shot through the wound on his leg, it lasted for several minutes.    
   
Now that it was cleaner Harry bent his head over it, pulling at the sides a little. "It's not going to heal unless it's forced closed, it's too deep. Shit, Draco, what did you think you were doing?"    
   
"I wanted to make sure it left a scar," Draco answered faintly.    
   
Harry rested his forehead carefully on Draco's leg and drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. His hands were starting to shake. He was shocked and afraid and confused but there didn't seem to be any anger, he thought there probably should be but he couldn't summon any. He was fixing Draco's leg partly cause he didn't know what else to do. Draco had murdered someone, tortured them and then killed them, but it seemed like a bad dream. It was some stranger that Harry had never met and he should be angry for her sake but all he could feel was a deep sorrow that Draco was in so much pain. He didn't know what that girl had looked like but he could see the ugly scar on Draco's stomach, self-inflicted as punishment for his weakness. No, there *was* anger, but not at Draco. He was angry at Voldemort for ruining more lives, angry at Draco's parents for not protecting him. He remembered Draco's anguished words in Dumbledore's office, 'You knew my father was a Death Eater and you let me go home to him, I was just a child, what did I know? What did I know about good and evil? You knew!' and was angry even at Dumbledore and Snape and himself for letting Draco go back to his father's when they knew Voldemort was back. When he had seen for himself what side Lucius Malfoy was on. He could feel tears forming in his eyes and starting to spill over, as his breath began to hitch in his chest he felt Draco's hand tentatively touch down on his hair.    
   
"Are... are you okay?" Draco asked.    
   
"No," choked Harry. "No I'm not." Then he started to cry in earnest, his tears running from his face onto Draco's thigh and spilling down onto the cut he had just cleaned.    
   
Draco felt the burn as the salt in Harry's tears stung the raw flesh but ignored it as he tried to comfort the boy weeping into his lap. "Don't cry," he soothed. "I'm sorry, don't cry."    
   
But Harry couldn't seem to stop.  


	12. Chapter 12

   
**The Marks We Bear Ch12  - Monday 6th Oct cont.**  
 

"And I'd give up forever to touch you  
Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now  
And all I could taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
And sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight  
  
And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am  
  
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything feels like the movies  
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive"  
  
\- Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

  
Harry had been crying for maybe ten minutes when there was a quiet knock on the door. Draco looked up as Hermione stuck her head in nervously. She stared at them for a moment and Draco thought that they must look quite a sight. He was almost naked, his robes open and his shirt hanging from his right shoulder having simply pushed his clothes away as he'd gone from scar to scar. Harry lay over his bare legs with his head buried in his lap and one arm tight around his waist, he didn't seem to have heard the door.    
   
"It's not what it looks like," he told her. He felt Harry react minutely to his words as he realised they were no longer alone.    
   
"Ron sent me up to check on you," she explained finally.    
   
Harry lifted himself up, trying to wipe away his tears before Hermione could see them. "We're fine," he said unconvincingly and without looking at her.    
   
"Uh-huh," said Hermione. "I can see that."    
   
"Please just... can you give us a little more time?" Harry asked.    
   
"Ten minutes," she said firmly. "People want to go to bed, it's nearly eleven." She closed the door again.    
   
Harry rubbed wearily at his red eyes as Draco pulled his shirt back on.    
   
"I should go," said Draco.    
   
"No, wait." Harry picked up his wand again and redressed Draco's leg. "I told you, you need quick-heal salve on that. Is the invisibility cloak in your room?"    
   
Draco nodded.    
   
"I'll come with you, I can get some salve from the Hospital Wing with the cloak."    
   
"What about... everything else?"    
   
Harry thought about the question for a moment. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know what to say."    
   
Draco summoned up a faint veneer of aloof calm that was spoiled by his voice cracking on the last line. "I understand if you don't want to spend time with me any more. Just... if you don't then stop now. Don't hang around cause you feel sorry for me. I don't need your pity."    
   
Harry looked at him sadly. "I almost think you want me to walk away. Is that why you told me all of this?"    
   
Draco swallowed. "Maybe. I can't think of any other reason for it, telling you was never going to be a good idea. Never going to do anything but destroy whatever you might feel for me."    
   
"Then tell me why I still feel the same?"    
   
"What?"    
   
"I should be so angry with you but I can't seem to find it. I'm worn out, Draco, it's too much to think about at once. Let's just go fix your leg and get some sleep. Please."    
   
"Okay... I... okay." Draco finished dressing again but as they stood to leave he caught Harry's arm. "I don't want you to leave me, Harry."    
Harry nodded. "Come on, let's go."    
   
They opened the door just as Hermione was coming back up the stairs to throw Draco out. "Where are you going?" she asked Harry.    
   
"Out," said Harry shortly.    
   
"But..."    
   
"Not now, Hermione. Please."    
   
Hermione didn't look happy about being brushed off but let them continue down the stairs. "Do you want me to wait up for you?" she called after him. "We can talk..."    
   
"No," said Harry. "Just go to bed, I don't know what time I'll be back."    
   
They walked through the common room to the expected deathly silence but as they reached the door Ron approached them. "Um... Harry?"    
   
Harry turned to him. "What?"    
   
"Are... are you okay?"    
   
Harry looked surprised at this, having expected anger rather than concern. He looked into Ron's worried eyes in startlement. "What? I... not really. But I'm working on it."    
   
Ron nodded. "Right. Well... if you need anything..."    
   
"Thanks." Harry allowed himself a small smile. "Really, thanks."    
   
Draco stood next to them, equally surprised at a side of Ron he had never been exposed to.    
   
"No problem," said Ron and walked back over to Hermione who was standing at the bottom of the stairs.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Draco sat in the storage room waiting, wondering if Harry would come to his senses and not bother to come back. He was cold, it was late and his leg ached from the disinfection spell. He had retrieved the invisibility cloak from his room and taken it out of the Slytherin Common Room for Harry who had disappeared to break into the hospital wing. He shivered, tucking his hands into his sleeves and drawing his knees up to his chest.    
   
He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had told Harry everything... absolutely everything. He still couldn't believe he'd done it. Maybe Snape had put some Veritaserum in his tea when he wasn't looking. He must be losing his mind. He'd betrayed Voldemort to Dumbledore... he'd told Harry he'd drugged him... he'd told Granger that he'd used the killing curse... he was so screwed...    
   
Before he could take a complete panic attack the door swung open and Harry reappeared in front of him. "I got it." He looked down at Draco who seemed to be hyper-ventilating. "Are you okay?"    
   
Draco just stared at him.    
   
"Hey, calm down." Harry dropped down next to Draco in concern. "Take a slow deep breath."    
   
Draco gasped for air. "I... I can't... I think... it's a... curse..."    
   
"It's not a curse," said Harry. "You're hyperventilating. Slow down or you'll pass out." Harry coached him until his breathing slowed and the dizziness passed. "See... you're fine."    
   
"What definition of fine is that?" asked Draco with a sarcasm born of oxygen deprivation.    
   
"The one that means you're here and I'm here and I'm going to fix your leg and we're going to get a good night's sleep and worry about anything else in the morning," said Harry firmly. "Now give me your leg." Harry pulled Draco's legs out straight and pushed his robes aside so that he could remove the dressings on his cut again. Then he pulled a tub of salve out of his pocket and carefully applied it, Draco felt the tingle and itch of it as it forced the skin to bind itself back together. Harry put the tub down and pulled Draco against his chest, as he watched and waited for the salve to finish working he absently stroked Draco's hair. When it seemed to have finished he bent down to study the scar it had left behind, it was pink and shiny with new skin. "It's left a scar," he said. "If we'd used this straight away that wouldn't have happened."    
   
"It was supposed to leave a scar," said Draco.    
   
Harry sighed, "I know." He stood up and looked down at the other boy. "Can we sleep in your dorm tonight? It's closer."    
   
"If you want to, you don't have to."    
   
Harry reached out his hand and pulled Draco to his feet. "Well I'm not sleeping alone tonight and given a choice between you and Ron..." He threw the invisibility cloak over him. "So lead the way."    
   
When they got to Draco's bed and closed the curtains Harry threw off the cloak and immediately cast the Claudo Velum charm to keep out intruders. He lit his wand and looked around the enclosed space, the dark green hangings and blankets made his wand light seem cold but the darkness was even more oppressive. He placed his lit wand in a holder on the headboard that seemed to be made for that purpose and turned to Draco. The other boy had his knees up to his chest again and his arms wrapped around them. Harry took off his robes and threw them on top of the invisibility cloak at the bottom of the bed, then he moved over to Draco and pushed his arms and legs away so that he could unfasten his robes.    
   
"I'm not a child," Draco said absently.    
   
"I didn't think you were," said Harry. He pushed Draco's robes off his shoulders, running his hands over them and down his arms. He met Draco's eyes with his own, "See, all grown up." He looked uncertainly at the other boy, both surprised at what he felt the urge to do after everything they had been through that day and unsure that he should after what Draco had told him Voldemort had put him through. Finally he asked, "If I touch you, it won't... you won't..."    
   
"Won't what?"    
   
"I don't want to remind you of anything..."    
   
Draco realised what Harry meant. "Oh... I don't know, I think everything's fine but sometimes it just... jumps into my head and it's there before I can stop it. Maybe it'll make a difference... that you know. But... "    
   
"But what?"    
   
"Why do you want to? After what I told you..."    
   
Harry thought about the question. Part of him thought Draco was right, he shouldn't want to, but he did. He hated the thought that Voldemort had so much as breathed on Draco, he wanted to touch every inch of Draco's skin and wipe away any memory of someone else having been there. "Because you're not his and he can't have you," he answered intensely. "Because I want you."    
   
Draco stared in amazement at Harry's fiercely territorial expression.    
   
Harry ducked his head in a fit of self-consciousness at having voiced his thoughts. "If you want me, that is," he finished.    
   
Draco felt a surge of desire for Harry, for his protectiveness and just the simple fact that even after a night like this he would still turn to Draco, still worry about him, still want him, still blush over it. "Don't hide that," said Draco, tipping his head back up. "Of course I want you. Just... I'll tell you if I start to... you know... and we can try and work around it. I want to."    
   
Harry nodded. "If anything bothers you just tell me and I'll stop."    
   
Harry leant forward tentatively to kiss the other boy only to have Draco pull him firmly into a deep kiss, he fell into him and their bodies tangled together as they both sought relief from the stress of the day. Eventually Harry drew back, his thumb taking his place against Draco's lips in a rough caress. "Let's not get out of bed any more," he gasped past bruised lips. "I don't like it out there, I like it here with you."    
   
Draco nodded trying to pull Harry back to him but he evaded his grasp.    
   
"Uh-uh. It's my turn," Harry said, pushing Draco's hands aside. He undressed Draco gently but with obvious restraint until the other boy was naked, half-lying, half-sitting against the pillows behind him. He took him in for a moment, his skin was a uniform warm gold everywhere but where shorts had blocked the strong summer sun leaving the familiar pale skin Draco had always worn in the past, even his feet were tanned. His limbs were still slim but firm and shaped with muscle from spending endless days riding and walking and running and climbing through the wild countryside around Malfoy Mansion in his quests to remain out of sight. Harry kissed him again, softly, on the lips. "No-one else gets to touch you but me," he whispered and then began to lay his claim down Draco's body. He kissed every scar Draco had, running his tongue over them, scraping his teeth over them... all but the one on his lower belly. That one he ran his fingers over thoughtfully, laid his forehead against for a moment as if praying and then moved back to kiss Draco's lips in a way that almost felt like forgiveness.    
   
_"It's okay for tonight,"_ Draco thought. _"I can be forgiven just for tonight."_ He had watched Harry as he made his way over his body, the familiar messy hair comforting, his hands warm and his mumbled endearments and promises a constant anchor to the present as he was reconsecrated.    
   
Harry looked up at him from the end of the bed where he had been exploring Draco's ankle, for a moment they smiled at one another. Draco was hard but comfortable, the desire wasn't urgent. "You're beautiful," said Harry. Draco blushed and that made Harry smile even more. He held Draco's eyes as he slid his hand up his calf over the sparse blonde hairs that stood out against the darker gold skin. He followed his hand up and kissed the inside of Draco's knee as he slid his fingers on up his thigh. He came to a stop kneeling between Draco's legs, his right hand still on Draco's left ankle where he'd placed his leg with the knee bent up. He lent his head against the upraised knee and slowly worked his gaze down from Draco's eyes to his cock which immediately started to twitch under Harry's fascinated eyes. What had been simply pleasant want metamorphosed into desperate need as he watched Harry lick his lips unconsciously.  
  
_"Is he going to?"_ thought Draco.  
  
_"Merlin, I want to... should I?"_ thought Harry. _"I have no idea what I'm doing... what if I do it wrong?"_ He flicked his eyes up to Draco's again nervously and was caught in them, they were almost completely black. Draco's mouth was slightly open and he was breathing through it in short gasps, the sight of him made Harry swell against his underwear.  
  
"Harry?" Draco asked in anticipation.  
  
In one swift movement Harry bent to him and ran his tongue up the length of Draco's erection. Draco began to babble nonsense as Harry took him into his mouth, exploring him with his tongue. _"Mine,"_ Harry thought. _"This is mine too and I'll kill anyone else who tries to touch it."_ He brought his hand up to cradle Draco's balls, the hair that surrounded them was silky and almost white against the soft flushed skin. Harry ran his cheek down the side of Draco's penis, pressing it into his face with his other hand, then burying his face in the curls at its base and breathing in deeply the wild, strong scent of sweat and arousal and Draco. He nipped the skin where his balls joined his cock then explored them one at a time, pulling them into his mouth. With one hand he held Draco's cock firmly, massaging it with his thumb but concentrating on what he was doing with his mouth, the other hand pushed Draco's leg further up and out to give him better access.  
  
Draco had one hand tangled in his hair and the other grasping the headboard behind him, his eyes still fixed on Harry's head as it nuzzled between his legs. Harry was right, they should stay here forever... he'd never felt anything like this in his entire life. He could hear his voice mumbling words but he had no idea what he was saying, they tumbled over his lips like water as he gasped for air and every breath seemed to take him higher. He held onto the headboard for dear life cause he felt like he might fall if he let go and he wasn't sure where he'd land. Harry's hand was running over his inside thigh and up to replace his mouth as it moved back to envelop Draco's erection once more but this time less exploring, less teasing and more urgent, more hungry. Draco released the tangled hold he had on Harry's hair and brought his other hand to the headboard, had to hold on. He dug his heels into the mattress and had a flash of watching Harry's feet do the same only last night. The memory of Harry convulsing under him sent more flashes of electricity through him and he knew he was about to fall no matter how tight he was holding on, he braced himself hard against the wooden headboard and didn't even notice that it's hard grain under his back and fingers caused no flashbacks as his body was swept away by his orgasm and he came into Harry's mouth. He knew he was mumbling something but he couldn't really hear it as he fell into the most intense sensation he had ever known.  
   
Draco came back to awareness to Harry's slightly concerned voice.    
   
"Draco?"    
   
"Mmmmm."    
   
"You're okay," said Harry relieved.    
   
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm."    
   
"I wasn't sure, I think you fainted."    
   
Draco let his eyes flutter open, he was laying flat on his back and apparently he hadn't landed cause it felt like he was floating. He brought Harry's face into focus slowly and then smiled in a way that would have made him laugh if he'd seen it. It was an expression he would never have thought his face even capable of. It certainly made Harry smile. He was smiling at Harry's face, it was flushed and his lips were red and swollen, his hair was even messier than usual and he looked... "Beautiful," said Draco.    
   
"What?"    
   
"You," then Draco hauled Harry back down and kissed him thoroughly, he could taste himself in Harry's mouth and it was good. As the kiss began to clear his head he rolled them over so that he was on top of Harry, when he pulled away he said, "You have too many clothes on." It didn't take them long to solve that problem and in a tangle of limbs he proceeded to show Harry just how much he had enjoyed what Harry had just done.    
   
Later they lay in the pale wandlight under the covers together, nearing sleep, still gently exploring with fingertips and lips and tongues. Their desire sated enough to begin thinking a little about the days events.    
   
"Harry, have you..."    
   
"What?"    
   
"Have you ever done that before?"    
   
Harry shook his head, "No. In the dorm we sometimes... you know, jacked off in front of each other. I was never comfortable with it, I thought they might guess I was gay somehow." He paused. "They used to tease me about being a prude cause I wouldn't let anyone touch me. Seamus and Ron used to be at it constantly a couple of years back, Ron knew all about everything cause of all his older brothers. I was so shocked when they first started doing it."    
   
"How come?"    
   
"I thought only poofs did stuff like that, I didn't have a clue. Ron told me all his brothers had done it when they were at school. He's the one that taught me that lubrication charm."    
   
"I wondered," said Draco. "They do that here too, I always thought it was disgusting, and in the Quidditch changing rooms as well. Zabini is such a slut."    
   
"But you never...?"    
   
"No, never. Do you mind me asking about this stuff?"    
   
"No, not at all."    
   
"It's just... I always ignored it all as much as I could. I never even... you know, on my own..."    
   
"Masturbated?"    
   
"Yeah, I thought it was ... immature."    
   
"Never?"    
   
"Well... not never but not much. Only if I had a hard on that wouldn't go away. Do you do it a lot?"    
   
"All the time, keeps me sane. I can't imagine not doing it, doesn't it make you... tense?" asked Harry, who had found thinking about sex one of the few things that got him through the long summers at the Dursley's. In the depths of the night when he didn't care any more what anyone thought he would imagine what all those terrible things that Dudley's friends said fags did might feel like and masturbate until he was too tired and sated to feel lonely.    
   
Draco shrugged. "I was used to it, I just didn't think about sex."    
   
"And now?" Harry asked teasingly.    
   
Draco laughed. "I think about it all the time," he admitted. "When I'm not stressing out about other stuff anyway." He stopped laughing. "Do you think," he said tentatively. "That Hermione told Ron... what I told her."    
   
Harry cast his mind back to remember what Hermione knew and didn't know and then thought about it. "I don't know," he answered. "I honestly don't know."    
   
"Let's stay here tomorrow, let's not get up."    
   
Harry smiled and kissed Draco's lips lightly. "It would only put off the inevitable."    
   
They lay in silence for another little while then Draco said, "I know you said you couldn't... forgive me for... you know, but... can you... have you..."    
   
"What?" Harry asked softly.    
   
"What I did to *you*..."    
   
"The potion?"    
   
"The potion."    
   
Harry let his hand stray down to the scar on Draco's thigh, finding it by touch alone. "If I didn't know you were sorry, if I couldn't see how much you hated doing it... maybe I would be angry. But if you hadn't hated doing it so much you'd be someone else and we wouldn't be here anyway. I... I think..." Harry trailed off, the words were there on the tip of his tongue to say but they seemed so huge and it was all so new, how could he be sure. But if it wasn't true how could he have forgiven Draco so easily, how could he have felt only horror and anger that Draco had been put in such a situation in the first place.    
   
"What is it?"    
   
"I don't know if Ron is ever going to get over this one," Harry muttered to himself.    
   
"Well, I wasn't planning to tell him, personally," Draco remarked, assuming Harry meant what they'd just done.    
   
"No, I don't mean... I mean..." Harry took a deep breath. "I think... I love you."    
   
Draco stared at him in utter shock.    
   
"Draco?"    
   
Finally he found his tongue, "Wh... what?"    
   
"I love you," repeated Harry firmly, the words felt right, they felt true.    
   
"But... but... why?" Draco asked in utter confusion.    
   
Harry smiled. "Dunno," he said happily. "But I do, I really do."    
   
"Really?" A smile of sheer wonder broke across Draco's face.    
   
"Really." Harry assured him and kissed him again. "I love you." And again and again.    
   
Later, as Harry began to doze off, Draco looked down at him. Harry loved him. He didn't claim to understand it, part of him wasn't even sure he believed it. But what he really wanted to know was... did he love Harry? He didn't know, he wasn't sure how you could tell if you loved someone. He didn't want to lie, didn't want to say it and then one day realise he had been wrong. There would be no more lying to Harry. Did he love him? Could he love him?    
   
There was no answer to that.    
   
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Tuesday 7th Oct**  
   
Ron had waited until nearly 1am for Harry to get back before he finally dropped off and his first thought when he jerked awake that morning was to check Harry's bed. There was no sign that Harry had ever been back, it was just as it had been last night. Ron dressed quickly and went down to the Common Room to find Hermione.    
   
When she finally came down the stairs trying to see past the pile of text books in her arms he took a moment to smile internally at her untidy braided hair and bright eyes, she was so beautiful, but then he remembered why he was pacing down here waiting for her. "Hermione!" he called.    
   
She came over to him. "Where's Harry?"    
   
"That's the problem, no Harry."    
   
"What?"    
   
"He never came back last night, his bed wasn't slept in."    
   
Hermione looked concerned. "You're sure."    
   
"Of course I'm sure. I think you better tell me what was going on last night."    
   
"I don't know... I wanted to speak to Harry about it first."    
   
"Well Harry isn't here and I need to know why."    
   
"I don't know why he didn't come back... maybe he went off somewhere to think in peace and fell asleep."    
   
"Or else Malfoy stabbed him in the back in a darkened corner and left him to die!" said Ron.    
   
Hermione paled... she didn't like Malfoy but she'd been willing to let it pass for Harry's sake, but after what she'd heard last night she didn't know what to think. She just wished Harry had spoken to her instead of rushing off. What else had Malfoy told him, what had he said that had left Harry crying in his lap and why had he been nearly naked when she'd walked in? Why had Harry left with Malfoy after the boy had admitted to using the killing curse on an innocent woman? "I don't know what to do... we need to find him."    
   
"The Map!" said Ron. He bolted back up the stairs and came back after a few minutes with an old blank sheet of parchment clasped in his hand. He and Hermione went to a corner so that no-one could see and Ron tapped the Marauders Map with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."    
   
Lines blossomed on the map and when it had finished drawing itself they studied it intently, it was Hermione who let out a gasp.    
   
"What?" said Ron, trying to figure out where she was looking.    
   
She pointed wordlessly to the Slytherin 5th year boys dormitory, there was a single dot with two names next to it. They were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.    
   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
   
Harry entered the Great Hall alone, he had snuck out of the Slytherin Common Room wearing the invisibility cloak and then made his way to his own room to clean himself up before breakfast. He was a little late and everyone else was already sitting down, he glanced over to the Slytherin table and caught Draco's attention with a small grin. The other boy returned it with a sly half-smile.    
   
Harry turned his attention to his own table and was met by intense expressions on Hermione and Ron's faces. He sighed to himself, this was probably not going to be easy what with Draco's confession in front of Hermione and the likelihood that they knew he hadn't slept in Gryffindor Tower. He braced himself and sat down with a cheery, "Good morning." They'd have to try pretty hard to crack his good mood this morning.    
   
"Where were you last night?" asked Ron tensely.    
   
Harry wondered what he should say, the truth was a bad idea but he couldn't summon up a believable lie.    
   
"Actually don't even bother trying to think something up," said Ron. "We already know exactly where you were."    
   
"You do?" said Harry in surprise.    
   
"We were worried about you," said Hermione. "We used the Marauders Map."    
   
"Oh," said Harry eloquently. "I see."    
   
"You do do you?" said Ron angrily. "Cause I don't, I don't see at all. What the hell are you playing at, Harry?"    
   
"Not here," said Harry. He stood up and moved them down the table, away from the bulk of the house.    
   
"I don't understand either, Harry," said Hermione sitting back down. "After what Malfoy told us last night..."    
   
"You told Ron what he said?"    
   
"She told me," said Ron grimly. "Harry... why are you *still* spending time with him. I know you have some sort of crush on him but he's a murderer!"    
   
"Keep your voice down," said Harry looking around at the other members of their house to see if they were listening. "You don't know the full story and I'm sorry but I can't tell you any more than you already know. What Draco did was... terrible... but he had no choice and I think he's more than paid for it."    
   
"There's always a choice!" said Ron.    
   
"Funny," said Harry. "That's what he said. But really there wasn't, dying isn't a choice and I can't regret that he didn't. Who knows what we might have done in the same situation."    
   
"Harry, please," pleaded Hermione. "You can't risk this. What if he's put in the same situation again only it's your life or his?"    
   
Harry looked at them sadly. "I don't know what would happen... how can I? How can anyone? This isn't his fault, it's Voldemort's fault."    
   
"I still don't understand why you're even taking the risk," argued Ron. "So maybe he's a good looking boy, I can admit that, but there're plenty of good looking boys who aren't the murdering sons of Death-Eaters. Dump him and find someone else. It's not like he's the great love of your life."    
   
Harry closed his eyes at Ron's choice of words, this wasn't going well at all. "How do you know what he is to me?" he asked finally, wishing he could say otherwise but knowing that it had to come out eventually. Might as well be now.    
   
"What?" said Hermione in astonishment. Ron couldn't even find words to express his horror at what Harry was implying. He just stared.    
   
"I really don't think this is the place for this conversation," deferred Harry.    
   
"But you can't?" said Ron stricken. "You just can't, you're wrong."    
   
Harry looked at Ron with pain in his eyes, why did Ron have to hate Draco so much. "But I do," he whispered.    
   
"No," insisted Ron. "You don't, you're confused."    
   
"No, I'm not," demanded Harry. "And yes, I do!"    
   
"No!" shouted Ron, as if saying it louder would make Harry more likely to agree. "You don't!"    
   
"Ron," mumbled Hermione. "Hush."    
   
Harry took a deep breath. "I love him," he said softly but clearly.    
   
Ron shot to his feet as if he were about to physically attack Harry. "Take that back," he hissed.    
   
Harry shook his head. "I can't."    
   
"Ron, stop it. I thought we agreed you two weren't going to fight," begged Hermione.    
   
"That was when I thought it was a crush, something he'd get over."    
   
From across the room Draco's good mood trickled away as he saw Harry and Ron stand off against one another. _"My fault,"_ he thought. _"I'm like poison, like Voldemort. I ruin everything I touch. Even Harry can't change that."_  
   
"Stop it, Ron," said Harry. "If you can't talk about this then we're just going to have to not talk about it. The subject is closed, what I do with Draco is none of your business. You're going to have to accept that or else we have nothing to say to each other any more."    
   
Ron stared at him, Harry's ultimatum hitting hard. "It's not you, Harry," he said, trying to explain. "You're my friend, you'll always be my friend. It's him... why him?"    
   
"I don't know," said Harry. "I think it was always going to be him eventually."    
   
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, curious despite her concern.    
   
"He was always there, he always caught my attention, right from the first moment we met. He stood out, just not in a good way at first," Harry explained. "He was always an important part of my life. The minute he changed I felt it, that very first time I saw him on the train after this summer. I thought it was just the physical changes at first but I don't think that was it at all. I think a part of me had just been waiting for him to figure out he was on the wrong side and once he had it all happened so fast."    
   
Ron had sat down again and now slumped over the table in defeat. "This is so wrong," he moaned.    
   
Hermione put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Harry," she said. "Please be careful... if you really care about him that much it only makes it so much more dangerous, so much easier for him to hurt you."    
   
"That's my problem," Harry said with finality.    
   
"Please, at least sleep in your own bed where we know you're safe."    
   
Harry shrugged, he could give them that much. It was as easy to smuggle Draco into Gryffindor Tower as it was to sneak himself into the Slytherin Dormitories, although the Claudo Velum charm was more likely to be questioned by his house mates than by Draco's. "All right," he said. "I'll sleep in my own bed. Can we stop talking about this now, I'd like to eat something before classes start."    
   
Hermione gave him a look. "You don't have any classes this morning," she said impatiently.    
   
"I don't?" said Harry, he tried to remember what day it was. "Oh, it's Tuesday isn't it."    
   
"Yes."    
   
Harry wondered if he could get Draco to bunk off his classes so they could go back to bed, they hadn't got a lot of sleep last night. But he should probably just go take a nap himself, he'd see Draco at lunch or speak to him in Defence Against the Dark Arts later.    
   
After that they seemed to fall into a routine. They would spend the day apart feeling tense and lonely, Harry would worry that Ron would never get over his distrust of Draco and Draco would gradually persuade himself that he could never escape Voldemort. Then they would meet outside Gryffindor Tower at 10.30pm, Draco hidden under the invisibility cloak, and spend the night together in Harry's bed wiping away all of those concerns. When Draco left in the morning it would start all over again.    
 


	13. Chapter 13

  
**The Marks We Bear Ch13 - Thursday 9th Oct**  
  
Draco was tenser than ever as he met Harry outside Gryffindor Tower, squeezing his hand through the invisibility cloak to let him know he was there. He followed Harry through the common room and up the stairs as he had the past two nights, onto the bed, close the curtains, cast the charm and then relax. Except tonight he couldn't relax even now because tomorrow was Friday. He threw off the invisibility cloak that covered his pyjamas and climbed under the covers, hardly even glancing at Harry.  
  
"What's wrong?" Harry asked immediately, looking at him with concern in the glow of his wand.  
  
Draco sighed and looked at him and then down to the wand in Harry's hand, he stared at it for a long moment. _"I could just grab it out of his hand,"_ he thought. _"And snap it in two and then it would be done and he'd be upset but he'd understand. He always understands."_ He closed his eyes. _"But I don't want him to have to understand, what if it's one thing too many and he can't do it any more. What if it makes him realise what an awful mistake this all is?"_ But even more, Draco didn't want to snap Harry's wand, he knew what a properly chosen wand was to a wizard, it was a part of yourself. It would be like reaching out and snapping Harry's arm.  
  
"Draco," Harry prodded.  
  
"It's just... tomorrow's Friday." said Draco.  
  
"I know that," said Harry, completely not getting it.  
  
He looked at Harry impatiently. "Tomorrow is Friday," he repeated. "By Friday, my father said. I don't need to tell you what failing will mean, he said."  
  
"Oh," said Harry. He had completely forgotten about the wand thing, he'd remembered to worry about what might happen on Saturday but not about this. He looked down at his wand dumbly.  
  
Draco hadn't forgotten, only last night he'd sent his father a reassuring letter saying all was well. Tomorrow he would need to send another saying he had done it. "I need them to think all is going to plan."  
  
"Well... what if I gave you it tomorrow night? We'd be together anyway..."  
  
"Give me it now," said Draco.  
  
"Now?"  
  
"I need to write to my father tomorrow and say I have it, I can't risk one of the other Slytherins seeing you still have your wand and blowing my story. Who knows who Voldemort might be checking up on me through, there are plenty of people at this school with Death-Eaters for fathers besides me."  
  
Harry clutched his wand tightly. "What should I say... tomorrow I mean, what should I say happened to it?"  
  
"Say it's missing, be worried about it... say it was by your bed when you went to sleep and when you woke up it was gone."  
  
"I don't know... I mean I want to help, I don't want you to worry about getting caught but... it's my wand," he looked to Draco for understanding.  
  
"Dumbledore confiscated mine over a week ago, Harry," Draco said. "You think I don't know how hard it is to be apart from it?"  
  
"Why is that?" Harry mused. "The Dursley's used to lock mine away all summer and it didn't bother me much at first, but this summer I could never have let them do it."  
  
"The longer you have a wand the more bound to it you become," Draco explained. "Especially if it's the right wand for you, properly matched."  
  
"Oh," said Harry, he held out the wand with faux casualness. "Take it a minute, I want to see what it feels like."  
  
"You know I'll give it back," Draco prodded.  
  
Harry's head was filled with images of the bright cage of light he and Voldemort had been enclosed in, his parents appearing from the tip of Voldemort's wand... forced out by his determination and the connection between the two wands. "It's not that I don't trust you I'm just... afraid. Afraid that something will happen that's out of your control and I won't get it back. When it comes down to one on one it's the only chance I have against Voldemort."  
  
"He knows that though, he'll be ready for it."  
  
"I know."  
  
Draco reached out and took hold of Harry's wand, drawing it slowly from between unwilling fingers. He could feel a faint buzz of energy from it that made him miss his own wand even more. He ran his hands over it in a caress that brought a flush to Harry's cheeks.  
  
"I swear I can almost feel that," Harry whispered.  
  
Draco looked up at him, with Harry's wand still in his hand he leaned forward and started kissing him. He felt Harry's hand creep over his until they were both holding the wand and each other, it seemed to create a new kind of tingle that spread through his arm and across the rest of the body. He heard and felt Harry moan as every hair on his body seemed to stand on end. When he broke apart he whispered, "You feel it too?"  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked in amazement.  
  
"I have absolutely no idea." He rubbed his thumb over the wood of Harry's wand and they both gasped as the tingle surged through them.  
  
"Fuck!" exclaimed Harry. "Do you think that's... normal?"  
  
"I don't know, I don't have any elder brothers or anything to tell me about this stuff."  
  
"I could ask Ron..." Draco raised an extremely sardonic eyebrow. "...or maybe not."  
  
"I vote we don't worry about it, anything that feels that good can't be bad."  
  
"I thought it was things that felt that good that you had to worry about," remarked Harry.  
  
"Shut up and kiss me again."  
  
That morning after Harry let Draco out of Gryffindor Tower he went into his dorm and started pretending to look for his wand. He accused Ron and Seamus of hiding it as a joke and made a fuss at the breakfast table asking people if they had seen it. The only person, aside from those in Dumbledore's office last Monday, who knew Draco was supposed to steal Harry's wand was Hermione and he managed to corner her before breakfast to tell her he was faking it and to play along.  
  
Despite the fact not having his wand made him slightly edgy the play acting helped take his mind off what might happen tomorrow. He was also thankful that none of his classes today really required much wand use. Divination didn't even require his brain never mind his wand.  
  
In Potions he studied Draco, wondering if he was carrying Harry's wand or if it were hidden away somewhere. He hoped Draco had it with him, it seemed safer and somehow not so bad as if it were laying somewhere all alone. He rolled his eyes at the fact that he was thinking of his wand as if it were alive and might get lonely. _"Just a little cracked, Harry,"_ he thought to himself. But every now and then he could see Draco put his hand in his pocket as if touching something and he almost thought he could feel an echo of the shiver that had run through him last night when Draco had touched his wand.  
  
After Potions was done he hung back, waiting for Draco, but the other boy went to talk to Snape and Harry gave up and went to get ready for dinner.  
  
Draco approached Snape nervously, wondering if the other man would stick to what he had said on Monday. He could feel Harry's wand sitting in his pocket like a lead weight, every now and then he would run his fingers over it and feel that same faint buzz run through him.  
  
"Professor Snape?"  
  
"Yes, Mr Malfoy, what is it?"  
  
Draco checked to make sure everyone else had left. "It's about what you said on Monday?"  
  
"Any part in particular or just in general?" he asked.  
  
"About... my wand. You said if I told you then you'd get it back to me before tomorrow." Draco looked at him tensely, waiting to be let down.  
  
"Ah, yes. I did didn't I."  
  
"Yes, you did."  
  
Snape eyed him for a moment and then said, "Not right now. After your detention tonight Dumbledore will be showing you and Harry to a safe room where you will remain until after the attack tomorrow. Your wand will be returned to you then."  
  
"A safe room?" Draco asked curiously.  
  
"I assure you it is as much to keep Potter from joining the fight as it is to keep Voldemort from reaching either of you. He is not known for his ability to stay out of things that don't require his assistance," Snape informed him with a tone that implied he didn't want either of them underfoot.  
  
"If he tries to go anywhere near Voldemort I'll sit on him," swore Draco, half to himself.  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow. "What is going on with you and Potter, Draco? I thought you despised him as much as..." he caught himself before he could say 'I do', "the rest of your house, if not more."  
  
Draco looked pensive as his previous behaviour was called to mind. "A lot of things that I used to believe became ... irrelevant after this summer," he said. "Didn't you find that after you realised you didn't want to follow Voldemort? That old rivalries just didn't seem to matter any more, just seemed petty and childish."  
  
Snape looked slightly embarrassed. "I was a lot older than you when I turned away from the Dark Lord," he said finally. "Older and more set in my ways."  
  
"Why do you hate Harry so much anyway?" Draco asked.  
  
"I do not hate Mr Potter," Snape informed him icily. "I simply refuse to treat him as if he is something special."  
  
Draco looked at him sceptically but didn't challenge him. "Well... I'll get off to dinner then," he said instead. "Thanks."  
  
Ron and Hermione met secretly as soon as dinner was over, while Harry was upstairs getting his things together. Hermione had told Ron most of what was going on and Harry had told them that he and Draco would be spending tonight and tomorrow in some sort of safe room which neither Hermione nor Ron were terribly happy about.  
  
"We have to get into that room somehow!" said Ron urgently. "If they're wrong about Malfoy then Harry will be completely defenceless. I can't believe he gave Malfoy his wand, what if he hexes it or gives him back a fake or something? They'll open that door tomorrow and Harry'll be dead if he's there at all!"  
  
"I think you're being a bit melodramatic," said Hermione. "But I agree that it's too much of a risk to leave Harry alone with Malfoy during this battle. We both know how much of a coward Malfoy is, he might turn Harry over if he thinks he's in any danger."  
  
"If I could only get Harry's cloak we could follow him into the room and no-one would know any better, but I can't find it anywhere. I don't know what he's done with it," Ron moaned.  
  
Hermione frowned. "If it's not in Harry's trunk I've got a pretty good idea where it might be."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Malfoy probably has it."  
  
"He gave his cloak to him too? This is getting ridiculous!"  
  
"I bet we can get it though, if we ask him."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"We just have to make it sound like we have a good reason to want to borrow it. He's got time to get it for us before he has to meet Dumbledore."  
  
"So what's a good reason?"  
  
Hermione thought about it. "We could say we were worried about the attack tomorrow, how he's going to be locked away all safe but we're going to be exposed. If we had the invisibility cloak we could get away if things got too bad."  
  
"That's pretty good, hell if we sound worried enough he might talk Dumbledore into letting us hide out with him and save us having to sneak in at all," mused Ron.  
  
"I doubt Dumbledore would go for that, but you never know."  
  
"Do you want to ask Harry or should I do it?"  
  
"You do it," said Hermione. "It'll be more believable if you do it on my behalf."  
  
"How d'you mean?"  
  
"Tell him I'm the one that's scared but I'm too embarrassed to say."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"And don't get into another argument with him about Malfoy or we'll never get it."  
  
"I know, I know." Ron headed upstairs to talk to Harry. When he got there Harry was sitting on his bed thoughtfully with a pile of stuff half in his bag next to him. "Hey, Harry."  
  
He looked up at Ron. "Oh, hi," he said tentatively.  
  
"Look," said Ron. "I know things have been a bit strained over the past few days but you know it's not personal. I'm still your friend."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Even if you are insane."  
  
Harry sighed. "Don't start, Ron."  
  
"I'm not," Ron held up his hands in protest. "Not starting at all." He sat down next to Harry. "I just wanted to say good luck for tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
A sudden and horrifying thought struck Ron and despite Hermione's admonishment he had to say something, "And Harry, just cause you're going to be alone all night with Malfoy and you might die tomorrow doesn't mean you need to go ... doing anything I wouldn't do. Understand."  
  
Harry went red. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he mumbled.  
  
"Yes you do, so just... don't. Anyway, that wasn't what I came up here to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you a favour?"  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"It's not really for me, it's for Hermione. She's worried about tomorrow, not that she'd admit it."  
  
"What do you want? I can talk to her if you think it'll help."  
  
"No... I just thought... well you're going to be all safe in your little room but the rest of us are going to be out here on the front lines. I thought if we had something to give us an edge in case anything bad happens it might reassure us."  
  
Harry looked concerned now. "I hadn't thought about that. If the school as a whole was safe why would Dumbledore be locking us away somewhere? But surely he wouldn't put the rest of you at risk? Would he?"  
  
"In a war you sometimes have to take risks," said Ron gravely. "I just want to be able to keep Hermione safe if the worst happens. I'm not as good as you with a wand."  
  
"What can I do?"  
  
"Give us the invisibility cloak, if it all goes wrong we can hide under it and get away."  
  
Harry thought for only a moment. "Of course, I won't need it. But I don't have it on me..."  
  
"Can you get it? It would mean a lot," said Ron hopefully.  
  
"Um... yeah I think so. Give me a half hour." Harry hopped off the bed and fished the Marauders Map out of his pocket.  
  
Half an hour later Harry was back with the cloak under his arm, he handed it over to Ron then finished packing his bag, said his goodbye's and went to meet Dumbledore.

\--------------------  
  
After his detention Draco went up to Dumbledore's office where he found the Headmaster, Professor Snape and Harry waiting for him.  
  
Dumbledore turned his wand over to him with only an admonishing look and led them silently through the dim corridors until they were in what must be the very centre of the castle. There they entered a steep spiral staircase which led downwards for a very long time. When they reached the small hallway at the bottom Dumbledore turned to them.  
  
"This is one of several safe rooms in Hogwarts, deep in the dungeon levels but accessible only from one entrance. In this case the stairway you just came down. You will find everything you might need in this room, he indicated an open door next to him. Once you are inside I will seal the door magically, only myself and a few of the other teachers will be able to open it. The room is already protected by special charms and wards which activate when the door is sealed. The entrance to the staircase will also be sealed and hidden."  
  
Harry looked at Draco apprehensively, the other boy looked as nervous as he felt. "Um... sir?"  
  
"Yes, Harry?"  
  
"What if... well... I don't mean to be negative but what if there's no-one left to let us out again?"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "It will not come to that, Harry, however it does always pay to be prepared. After all we might forget about the two of you in the excitement of our triumph," Dumbledore gave a twinkling smile. "The sealing charms will be time dependant, should nobody remove them they will dissipate of their own accord after three days."  
  
Harry nodded with relief, he was feeling slightly claustrophobic. "Right then," he said with false confidence. "I guess we'll see you tomorrow night." He strode into the room and looked around, Draco followed him silently.  
  
There were no windows and no fireplace. The room was warm and lit by a single glowing orb that perched on a stand in a corner and gave off a dim, friendly light. The walls were stone hung with a few old tapestries and the floor was covered with a slightly threadbare red carpet. Against one wall stood two four poster beds and there was also a small table and two armchairs near the corner the light was in. Against another wall was a large cupboard which Dumbledore went over to and opened.  
  
"There should be more than enough food for you in here," he said. "There is a small bathroom behind that tapestry. Try not to worry too much about what's going on, most likely Voldemort will leave as soon as he realises his reason for being here," he indicated Harry, "is not accessible."  
  
"What about the rest of the students?" Harry asked, still worried about what Ron had said. "Won't they be in danger?"  
  
"My students are always my highest concern," Dumbledore assured him. "Don't worry about it. Get a good night's sleep and I expect you both to have all your homework done by the time I see you again." He smiled at them one last time and then closed the door behind him.  
  
Harry slumped as soon as they were alone. "Merlin, I hate this, I think I might die of worry before Voldemort even shows up!"  
  
"I know," said Draco. "I think being down here just makes me even more nervous. Nothing to do but wait for the inevitable."  
  
"It's not inevitable, don't go all fatalistic on me," Harry corrected him. "Besides I'm more worried about everyone else than about us, I'm sure this room is pretty safe." Harry peered into the food cupboard then went and sat down on one of the beds. "And what do you mean *nothing* to do?" His worry lifted enough to reveal a teasing smile.  
  
Draco smiled at him. "I suppose we might be able to come up with something to pass the time," he answered as he walked over to the bed Harry was sitting on. "Do you think Dumbledore's finished sealing the doors yet?"  
  
"I don't care if he's standing out there peeping through the keyhole," said Harry.  
  
Draco climbed onto the bed behind Harry and wrapped his arms around the other boys waist. "That is a really disgusting thought," he mumbled as he kissed Harry's neck and jaw, running his hands up to unfasten the neck of Harry's robes. Harry leaned back into the warm body behind him with a sigh and reached his arms up to loop around Draco's neck. Just then there was a sudden commotion in the far corner of the room. Both boys leapt for their wands, although only Draco pulled his as both of them were in his possession still.  
  
Ron came bursting out of the corner leaving Hermione half covered in the invisibility cloak behind him. "Stop that right now!" he ordered.  
  
Harry and Draco stared at him in complete shock. "Ron?" said Harry.  
  
"I thought I told you not to do anything I wouldn't do!" Ron scolded him.  
  
"Ron?" said Harry again. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"We're here to keep an eye on him... and a bloody good thing too from what I just saw!"  
  
Draco was still pointing his wand at them, his hand was shaking slightly and Harry reached out to push it down. "It's okay Draco, it's just Ron and Hermione."  
  
"No-one's supposed to be able to get in here," Draco protested, sounding shaken.  
  
"We came in before Dumbledore sealed the doors," Hermione explained, folding the cloak over her arm. "I'm sure the room's perfectly safe once it's sealed."  
  
Draco looked around, the room seemed less comforting and more sinister now. For a split second he had been sure it was Voldemort appearing in the corner and he was finding it hard to regain his equilibrium. _"What else might have got in here before the doors were sealed?"_ he thought.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me what you were going to do?" said Harry, annoyance replacing his surprise. "You didn't have to lie to me to get the cloak."  
  
"We weren't sure if you would agree," said Hermione looking abashed. "You've been a bit... stubborn about... well him," she gestured to Draco.  
  
"I might not agree with you about Draco but if you'd wanted to come with me I'd have let you, it means I don't have to worry about you tomorrow. I should have thought to ask Dumbledore if you could come with us myself."  
  
"Really?" said Ron.  
  
"Really," Harry assured him.  
  
"Great," mumbled Draco and threw himself face down on the bed. "I can just tell how much fun this is going to be."  
  
Harry turned round to him. "Don't be like that," he said crawling over to stroke his hair.  
  
Ron made a noise. "Don't touch him like that," he complained. "It's gross."  
  
"See!" exclaimed Draco into the pillow.  
  
Harry left his hand tangled in Draco's hair and turned to face Ron. "I'm happy you're here, but I'm not going to put up with you going on about me and Draco. If you don't like me touching him then you'll just have to stare at the wall or something."  
  
Ron looked pained but Hermione came up behind him and put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Maybe it's for the best, Ron," she said. "If Harry and Malfoy are going to be together we need to get used to it."  
  
"I don't want to get used to it," said Ron. "I want it to go away."  
  
"It's not going away," said Harry firmly.  
  
"What if he *is* lying to us?" asked Ron.  
  
"He's not!"  
  
"Has he even given you back your wand?" Ron challenged.  
  
Draco sat up and tugged Harry's wand out of his inside pocket. "It's right here," he said brandishing it at Ron.  
  
Harry reached out to take it but the minute his fingers joined Draco's the familiar and exciting tingle shot through their bodies again. Ron and Hermione suddenly seemed very far away and insignificant as he turned in to Draco who stared into his eyes then caught his free hand and pressed his own wand into it so they were connected on both sides, their fingers twining around the warm wood of their wands. With two wands the buzz grew to even greater heights, heightening every sensation between them and cutting off everything else. They stared into one another's eyes in pleasurable amazement as they slowly and inexorably moved forward into a kiss. As their lips touched they both moaned at the increased sensitivity.  
  
"What are they doing?" cried Ron in horror. "Make them stop."  
  
"Look," said Hermione in fascination. "I could swear their wands are glowing."  
  
"Is that supposed to be a metaphor?" Ron asked in revulsion.  
  
"No, I mean literally. Look."  
  
"I can't, I've gone blind," he groaned.  
  
Draco and Harry were starting to get even more carried away on the bed, having completely forgotten they weren't in private. Thanks to the Claudo Velum charm this wasn't the first time they'd fooled around to the sound of Harry's housemates talking. Draco had pushed Harry back onto the bed and was holding both of his hands and the two wands above his head with one hand, freeing the other to start unfastening Harry's robes again. They were still kissing in a positively obscene fashion, all moans and tongues and wet hungry noises.  
  
Hermione stepped forward, clearing her throat loudly. "Ahem!" she said pointedly.  
  
She was completely ignored as Draco slid his hand inside Harry's robes and under his vest as he thrust his hips against him.  
  
"Excuse me!" she kicked the bed. "If you don't mind." She was blushing bright red.  
  
Harry groaned loudly into Draco's mouth as the other boy found a nipple and pinched it.  
  
Suddenly Ron barrelled past Hermione and threw a large jug full of water over both boys.  
  
They both froze immediately in shock as the cold water drenched them. They pulled apart gasping and looked at Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Oh shit!" exclaimed Harry. "Shit! Sorry! I don't know what I was thinking."  
  
Draco just looked down in surprise at his soaked robes. "What the hell?"  
  
"What is with you two?" demanded Ron. "We're standing right in front of you!"  
  
"You threw water at us!" protested Draco.  
  
"You didn't give me much choice!" Ron shouted.  
  
"You were getting a little carried away," said Hermione reasonably. "You didn't even seem to hear us. What happened? I thought I saw your wands start glowing when you both touched them at the same time."  
  
Harry looked at the two wands in his hands. "It's something we noticed last night when I gave Draco my wand," he said thoughtfully. "I don't know what it is, it's like this... tingle."  
  
Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed as Draco swept off to the bathroom in a huff, having born the brunt of their unexpected cold shower. She reached out to touch one of the wands in Harry's grasp. "I don't feel anything," she said.  
  
"I don't feel it either when you touch them," said Harry. "I can feel it a tiny bit when I touch Draco's wand or when he touches mine and a lot when we touch one of them at the same time, and apparently even more if we touch both."  
  
"I wonder if it's some sort of compatibility between the wands or between you and Malfoy," said Hermione, sunk deeply into intellectual fascination. "Have you ever felt it with any other people or wands?"  
  
"I've not touched many other people's wands," said Harry with a shrug.  
  
Hermione turned to Ron. "Touch them and see if you can feel anything," she said. "I don't feel anything from either of them."  
  
Ron looked at the two wands in Harry's hand as if he might catch something from them.  
  
"Go on," said Hermione.  
  
"Which one is Malfoy's?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry held up a wand the same length as Harry's wand but of paler wood.  
  
Ron reached out and touched Harry's wand apprehensively. He shrugged, "I don't feel anything."  
  
Draco reappeared out of the bathroom wearing a pair of jersey boxers, socks and a towel around his neck.  
  
"Argh!" cried Ron covering Hermione's eyes with his hands.  
  
"Ron!" protested Hermione. "Get off me."  
  
"Put your clothes back on!" he instructed Draco.  
  
"My clothes are soaked," Draco pointed out, "And I left my wand through here. What are you lot doing?"  
  
Harry handed him his wand back, only lingering a little as the buzz passed through them. "Hermione's a little curious about the wand thing."  
  
"Wants to try it herself does she," he remarked and went to fish his pyjamas out of his bag. "Go finger Weasley's wand, Granger. Harry's is off limits." He pulled on his pyjamas, relieved to be a little more decent, but he left the top unbuttoned partly to piss off Weasley and partly because Harry was staring at him with such an appreciative look.  
  
"You think it's a couple thing?" asked Hermione now that Ron had let go of her. Draco's comment leading her off into a new avenue of thought. "Now that you mention it I think I remember Lavender or someone mentioning something about truly compatible people tending to have compatible wands. I thought it was just the usual romantic claptrap she's always spouting."  
  
"Come off it," Ron scoffed. "Harry and Malfoy are about as compatible as Snape and Sirius, they just haven't figured that out yet."  
  
"Who haven't?" said Hermione with a grin. "Harry and Malfoy or Snape and Sirius?"  
  
Ron looked confused and then pulled a revolted face as he figured out what she meant. "That is... unspeakably disgusting. You are a sick person. As soon as we get out this room I'm sending the lot of you off to get your heads examined."  
  
"It's not like you had to be here, Weasley," Draco sniped and sat back down on the bed. "Now why don't you go play with your wand on your bed and let us get some... sleep."  
  
"It's only half nine," said Hermione. "You can't be that tired al... oh!"  
  
Ron looked around the room in consternation. "There is absolutely no way you're sleeping in the same bed as Harry," he told them.  
  
"Well I'm not sleeping with either of you," said Draco, "and unless I'm very much mistaken this room is ours, mine and Harry's. You don't get to decide who sleeps where. In fact, unless Granger's feeling particularly accommodating, I think you're going to be sleeping on those chairs. Sweet dreams."  
  
Harry sighed. "Let me deal with this will you," he told Draco.  
  
"Yeah, you tell him, Harry," said Ron enthusiastically.  
  
Harry fixed Ron with a firm look. "Draco and I will be sleeping in this bed," he told him. "You and Hermione can argue over the other one all you like."  
  
"B... but..." Ron goldfished.  
  
Even Hermione looked a little scandalised. "Harry," she protested. "Don't you think you might be taking things a little too... fast?" She gave Draco a critical look as if to say 'this is clearly your influence'.  
  
He simply smiled at her smugly from his position on the bed, reclining against the pillows with his arms behind his head. As long as Harry stayed on his side... and in his bed... teasing Granger and Weasley was always fun. And really... it wasn't so bad having them here. If anything did go wrong it was two more people who would be ready and willing to protect Harry... against him as well as against Voldemort. He withdrew into himself at that thought, closing off his expression from Granger's view. They would be strong if he was weak and Harry would be safe. Which was all that really mattered after all.  
  
When he came back to awareness Harry seemed to have finished arguing with his friends and was taking his pyjamas into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Ron was sulking in one of the armchairs and Hermione was sitting on the other bed looking concerned. She caught his eye again and frowned at him.  
  
"What now?" he said impatiently. "Maybe if you were getting some you'd spend less time worrying about what everyone else was doing."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione in annoyance. "We're not all as obsessed with sex as you apparently are."  
  
"Don't blame me for your repressed upbringing," he retorted.  
  
"Then don't you mistake your perverse Death Eater orgies as normal behaviour!" she snapped and was rewarded by Draco going white as a sheet in response.  
  
Harry was out of the bathroom in a split-second, having been listening to the argument as he changed. He hadn't needed to see Draco's expression to know what Hermione had said would hit a very sensitive nerve. "That's enough!" he said angrily at Hermione.  
  
"He started it," she protested weakly, shaken by the pain that had shot across Draco's face before he'd shut down.  
  
"And I'm finishing it," Harry told her. He climbed onto his bed and shut the curtains tightly around Draco and himself. Then he turned and gathered Draco into a tight embrace. "Hey," he said softly. "She didn't mean it, she didn't know what she was saying."  
  
"What if she's right?" said Draco hollowly. "What if I'm... what if this...."  
  
"This is nothing to do with him," said Harry firmly. "Nothing we do has anything to do with him."  
  
"You're sure?" Draco asked in a small voice.  
  
"I'm sure." Harry kissed him softly. "I love you."  
  
Draco let him kiss him for a while then drew away to ask, "How do you know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"Know that you... that you love me? How do you tell?"  
  
Harry studied Draco, stroking his cheek with one finger. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Draco flushed a little. "It's just... I... I don't know how to tell. I want to... to say it... but I'm scared I might be wrong."  
  
Harry smiled. "Then don't say it yet, there's no rush. Wait until it feels right."  
  
"You don't mind?"  
  
"I don't mind."  
  
Draco smiled a little too. "I couldn't do this without you, you know that don't you?"  
  
Harry just kissed him again.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Marks We Bear Ch14 - Friday 10th Oct cont.**  
  
When Harry pulled away he looked mischievous. "What say we finish what we started," he suggested running his hands down Draco's chest.  
  
Draco smiled and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the curtains he incanted, "Claudo Velum, Velum Silencio Totalis." He turned back to Harry. "So," he said conversationally. "Just how long do you think Weasley will last trying not to think about what we're doing behind these curtains?"  
  
"I think you're enjoying this a little bit more than you ought to be," Harry teased him.  
  
"Maybe," Draco admitted. "Are you saying you don't love being able to do this right under their noses?"  
  
Harry blushed a little. "Would I be a complete pervert if I said maybe?"  
  
Draco grinned and pushed Harry onto his back again, straddling his thighs he ran the tip of his wand over Harry's lips and down his neck. "Want to bet Granger's sitting staring at the curtains and just wishing she could see through them."  
  
Harry gasped as Draco ran his wand over Harry's nipple. "I bet if she wanted to she could use a spell to see right through them, she's pretty... resourceful."  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry in curiosity. "You're getting off on that aren't you?" he asked in surprise.  
  
Harry squinted at him as Draco stopped teasing his chest. "Aren't you?"  
  
Draco shrugged and dropped down so his arms were resting on Harry's chest, he kissed Harry's chin. "I just like irritating them, it doesn't turn me on. I'm not really much of an exhibitionist."  
  
Harry looked away in embarrassment. "You must think I'm really weird."  
  
"Of course I don't," Draco protested. "We're not always going to be into exactly the same stuff."  
  
"I want us to be though," said Harry.  
  
"If we were exactly the same it'd take half the fun out of life," Draco told him. "So what other perverse little desires are you harbouring?" he asked teasingly. "I think the night before our possibly impending doom is a good time to indulge any little fantasies you might have."  
  
"There is no impending doom," Harry insisted. "And I don't have any perverse fantasies." The fact he went bright red after saying that made it obvious he was lying.  
  
"Come on, you can tell me." Draco looked faintly embarrassed himself. "You know I don't know much about this stuff. I always thought sex was something people who had nothing more important to do wasted their time with." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I guess I had a nerve calling Granger repressed." He turned serious again. "So I want you to tell me what you want, anything you want. Cause despite my suave exterior I really don't have a clue what I'm doing or what you'd like."  
  
Harry looked touched but nervous. "I don't know if I can... I mean... talking about stuff somehow seems harder than doing it. More embarrassing." He looked thoughtful then rolled them over so he was on top. "Why don't you let me show you instead?"  
  
Draco let Harry press him into the bed and kiss him but then rolled them back over. "No, I think I'd rather get you all hot and bothered," he told Harry. "I love it when you blush." He pinned Harry's hands over his head and kissed him. "Tell me something you want, something you're embarrassed to ask for," he demanded.  
  
Harry stared up at him and Draco could see the desire to speak there, the fear and the excitement mingling together. Harry licked his lips nervously, there were a hundred things running through his mind but he wasn't sure if he could get the words out to ask for most of them. "You could... you could..."  
  
"Could what?" Draco asked huskily.  
  
"Tie me up," Harry blurted out, just saying the words making his cock twitch.  
  
Draco smiled a slow lazy smile, bathing in Harry's mixed expression of shame and want. "I can definitely work with that," he said. He bent down and captured Harry's lips as he pulled his torso up off the bed and stripped away his pyjama top. He laid him back down in the centre of the bed and stretched his arms out to either side, running his hands over them. Then he took hold of Harry's right wrist and pointed his wand. "Good thing we covered bondage in my Evil Overlords Summer Camp," he remarked, repressing the memories that accompanied his recollection of the correct spell by focusing on the present. Remarkably easy to do with Harry looking at him like that. "Evincio Funis," he said with a quirky half-smile and ropes spun out of his wand and wrapped themselves around Harry's wrist, fastening it securely to the bed-frame.

\------------  
  
"Ron stood up and began pacing the room, glancing tensely at the closed curtains. After a few minutes he went over to Hermione and whispered urgently, "You think maybe they've just fallen asleep? I don't hear anything."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I very much doubt they'd go at it without putting some sort of silencing charm on the curtains first," she told him.  
  
Ron looked aghast.  
  
"What do you think that was about?" she mused. "Did you see his face?"  
  
"What?" said Ron distractedly. "Who's face? Do you think we should insist they leave the curtains open so they can't... you know..."  
  
"Malfoy's face," answered Hermione, ignoring the rest of what Ron said. "He looked like he'd seen a ghost... no that's not quite it... it was more like he'd hurt himself and was trying to hide it."  
  
"What are you on about, 'Mione?"  
  
"When I made that remark about Death Eater orgies this pain flashed across his face before he went completely blank and all the colour drained out of him. Then Harry came haring out of the bathroom like some over-protective mother bear and just about bit my head off. It was really weird."  
  
"You probably hit the nail right on the head," said Ron. "I mean that's the sort of thing Death Eaters probably get up to when there aren't any Muggles to torture, wild orgies. Godric knows what perverted stuff he's doing to Harry in there with all that experience behind him. You should stop them, Harry'll listen to you."  
  
"Wild horses couldn't persuade me to go anywhere near that bed," said Hermione firmly. "There're some things I just don't need to see and whatever they might be doing is definitely one of them."  
  
"We're supposed to be keeping an eye on them, we can't do that if they're hidden away behind silencing charms. Malfoy could strangle him and we wouldn't even hear him gasping for help."  
  
"Pain is not what I'm worried about hearing him gasp in," said Hermione wryly. "I think you're getting a little over-obsessed with what they're doing, should I be worried?" She gave him a teasing look.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm just concerned that you want to spend all this time we've got alone here talking about what Harry and Malfoy might be doing. I might start to think you'd rather be in there with them than out here with me."  
  
"Hermione! I.... oh..." Ron stopped and stared at her. "Um..."  
  
Hermione looked down nervously. "I just thought... maybe... we could talk or something." She looked up at him hopefully.  
  
For a moment Ron forgot entirely about the two boys on the other bed and turned his entire attention to the intense butterflies Hermione had just caused to appear in his stomach. "So... ah... what do you want to talk about?"  
  
Hermione sighed and looked down at her hands. "Sometimes I think I should just give up and find someone who at least has half a clue," she muttered.  
  
"What? No, don't do that! I'm not that bad am I?"  
  
Hermione looked up. "Let me put it this way... yes."  
  
"I'm sorry... so... " Ron looked helpless. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do!" he said desperately.  
  
"Well, what do you want to do?" asked Hermione impatiently.  
  
Ron blushed. "I don't think I should answer that," he said awkwardly.  
  
Hermione blushed too. "Oh... I see." She stood up, looking conflicted, then said, "Well then I suppose I'll just have to then, won't I?"  
  
"Have to what?"  
  
She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a clumsy liplock.  
  
"Mmmmph!" said Ron.

\--------------  
  
Draco studied his finished masterpiece, 'Naked Harry in Bed With Ropes'.  
  
Harry tugged slightly at his bound limbs in a sensual squirm, his eyes dark with arousal and fixed on Draco's face.  
  
"Is that good?" asked Draco, his breath fast just from looking at him. "Do you want me to blindfold you?"  
  
"No, this is... " _fucking incredible_ "...good," said Harry. "I want to be able to see you."  
  
"I wish you could see yourself," breathed Draco. "You look amazing."  
  
Harry laughed, sounding slightly light-headed. "Guess that's why people put mirrors on their ceilings."  
  
"What should I do now?" Draco asked.  
  
"Merlin, Draco, go with your instincts. Just touch me... please... anything!"  
  
Draco was kneeling between Harry's outstretched legs near the bottom of the bed, still wearing his pyjamas. He shrugged off the open top as he pondered exactly what his instincts were telling him to do, then he leant down slowly and deliberately bit into the inside of Harry's thigh just above the knee.  
  
Harry leapt at his touch and moaned. "Oh, fuck! Do that again."  
  
"You like that?" Draco moved further up and bit into the other leg.  
  
"Yes! Definitely, yes."  
  
Draco bit and licked his way up the insides of Harry's thighs leaving vibrant red marks on the soft pale skin, sometimes worrying the skin with his teeth, sometimes sucking until it left a mottled bruise of broken capillaries. All the time Harry thrashed underneath him with encouraging moans and gasped pleas for Draco to bite harder.  
  
Finally he lay with his head in the hollow of Harry's hip, his nose a fraction away from Harry's cock. "I had no idea you were so into pain," he murmured, Harry's cock twitched as his breath whispered over it.  
  
"Neither did I," Harry gasped. "Is that bad?"  
  
Draco let his tongue flick out to run lightly up the side of Harry's cock. "If you like it why should it be bad?" he asked. He fished his wand out of the bedclothes at Harry's feet and cast the Lubricans charm Harry had taught him. Then he began to slowly stroke Harry's cock as he continued his trail of sucking and biting up Harry's stomach and chest, spending a long while on each nipple until he only had to brush his tongue over one to make Harry cry out.  
  
He moved from his reclining position so that he could bring both hands down between Harry's legs, sliding one down to massage his balls. They were tight and he could tell Harry was close, his head was thrown back and his eyes tightly shut as he focused all his attention on what he was feeling.  
  
"Yes," Harry moaned. "Nearly."  
  
Draco ran his palm over Harry's balls as he worked him harder, eyes fixed on his face.  
  
"Yes, lower," Harry hissed, so close as to be mindless to embarrassment, he just wanted.  
  
"Where?" he looked down at his hands.  
  
"Please, lower."  
  
"I don't know what you mean?" he looked back as Harry's eyes fixed onto him.  
  
"Inside me. God, Draco, put your finger in my arse," he begged. "Please."  
  
Draco's jaw gaped as his fingers automatically moved to obey Harry's entreaty. Harry's head dropped back with a moan and his body quivered as Draco's middle finger found the sensitive spot Harry had been directing him to. He slipped his finger past the tight ring of muscle and as he did Harry spasmed against the ropes and came over his stomach with a deafening yell.  
  
When Harry came back to earth Draco was still staring at him in complete surprise, one finger inside Harry up to the first knuckle. "Mmmm, Draco," he murmured. "Tha' w's good."  
  
"Wow," said Draco. "I've never seen you so..."  
  
Harry managed to open his eyes a bit and looked at him questioningly.  
  
"...loud."  
  
Harry smiled lazily, "Didn't mean to yell, I don't usually... it was just... it kinda caught me by surprise. Hope the Silencing Charm held up or they'll probably think you've killed me. "  
  
"You... ah... seemed to get over your embarrassment at telling me what you wanted," Draco commented, wondering if Harry even realised where his finger was or if it had been an unconscious heat-of-the-moment kind of thing. He thought he should probably remove it now but doing so seemed likely to call attention to where it was and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. When it came to things that boys could do to one another Draco was far from knowledgeable.  
  
Harry grinned with the confidence borne of feeling really, really good, "I guess I did, amazing what a little motivation will do. You can have your finger back now, you know."  
  
"Right," said Draco going bright red.  
  
Harry moaned sensually when he pulled it out. "Oh, that's nice." He tugged at his arms. "Untie me will you."  
  
Draco ended the binding spell and the ropes vanished. Harry pulled all his limbs in momentarily but before he could roll over to wrap himself around Draco the other boy caught one of his wrists. "Shit, look at your wrists."  
  
Harry's wrists were covered in rope burns and bruises were appearing from pulling so hard against the restraints. "Don't worry about that now," Harry took his wrist back and pulled Draco into a long kiss. "We'll fix them in the morning if we need to." He rolled Draco onto his back. "It's your turn now. What do you want?"  
  
Draco looked up at him. "I don't know what I like, I never bothered to find out before. Just do what you want, I trust you. But... no ropes, I don't want to be tied up."  
  
"No problem," said Harry tenderly. "Just lie back and let me take care of everything." Harry kissed him again and began to work his way down, experimenting until he found what Draco reacted best to. He seemed to prefer soft and teasing to hard and forceful, in opposition to Harry. He stroked Draco's sides and hips as he ran the tip of his tongue over his stomach and into his belly button which he tongued. He had an inkling of what he wanted to do but wasn't sure if he could go through with it or not, or whether Draco would like it or not. But there was only one way to find that out. He reached Draco's cock and began to tease it with his lips and tongue, pushing his thighs apart and up. Draco reacted by hooking his right leg over Harry's shoulder and caressing his back with his foot. He had one hand tangled in the blankets and one on Harry's head, half encouraging and half just touching, stroking his hair.  
  
Harry wrapped one arm around Draco's thigh, trapping it, and caressed his stomach then let the other hand take the place of his mouth as he moved lower to suck on Draco's balls. Draco caught his free hand in his own and laced their fingers together, Harry squeezed it tightly as he prayed that he wasn't about to make a terrible mistake. He let his tongue run lower until it flicked over the puckered skin between the soft skin of his buttocks.  
  
"Oh, fuck... Harry..." Draco gasped. "That's..." _Disgusting? Gods, it feels good. Where the hell did he learn to do that?_  
  
Harry, encouraged by the fact Draco hadn't pushed him away and seemed to be making vaguely pleased noises, probed further. He let his tongue push inside as he stroked Draco's cock harder and began to thrust his tongue in time to his strokes.  
  
Draco stopped thinking and let the sensations wash over him, he was so close. He gripped Harry's hand tighter, his other hand joining Harry's on his cock. "Harry," he gasped. "Going to..." Then with a soft gasp he was coming over his stomach. He went limp as Harry reappeared from between his legs.  
  
"Good?" Harry asked hopefully.  
  
He gave a moan of sleepy agreement as Harry moved to lap the sticky fluid from his stomach. "You don't have to...."  
  
"I like the way you taste," Harry told him. When he was done he clambered up to snuggle behind Draco who rolled over and let Harry spoon up behind him. After a moment Harry whispered, "You don't think I'm... weird, do you?"  
  
Draco squeezed the hand that was draped over his chest and turned his head to kiss him. "I love you just the way you are," he told him.  
  
Harry was silent a moment. "I love you too," he said softly, wondering if Draco had meant the word that way or not... hoping he had.  
  
Draco didn't say anything further and after a little while they both fell asleep.  
  
\---------------------  
Saturday Oct 11th  
  
Harry woke up feeling stiff and definitely in need of a shower. Draco lay spooned in front of him, still asleep, and Harry was suddenly strongly aware of the way their bodies were pressed together. He lay slightly on top of the other boy, arms wrapped around his torso and one leg thrown over him. His morning erection was nudging against Draco's buttock and if he hadn't needed to pee quite so desperately he might have been tempted to wake the other boy and do something about it. But he really needed to pee.  
  
Harry pulled his left arm out carefully from under Draco's body and cast around for his pyjamas, he couldn't see them anywhere... or Draco's for that matter. "Shit!" he swore and stuck his head out of the curtains to see if anyone was looking. He was momentarily disoriented to find he wasn't in his dormitory and then even more so when he saw that Draco and he weren't the only ones spooning in bed. Although Ron and Hermione were still fully dressed as far as he could tell and had only a blanket pulled over them. They were fast asleep.  
  
He suddenly remembered why he wasn't in his dorm... it was Saturday. Fuck, it was Saturday! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He sprang out of bed despite his lack of clothing and ran to the bathroom to find his watch. Once he got to it he stood there stupidly, realising he didn't know what time the attack was supposed to take place anyway. The time was 9.52am. It might have started already for all he knew.  
  
He took a leak then walked numbly back through and tried to get back into the bed but couldn't get the curtains open. "Fuck!" he swore again. He'd left his wand on the bed somewhere and the Claudo Velum charm was still in place. "Bollocks!"  
  
"Wha..." said a bleary voice from behind him.  
  
He spun around to find Hermione opening her eyes. She looked at him in mild, sleepy confusion. "Harry? Why are you naked?"  
  
Harry looked down at himself. "Um..." The bathroom, where his clothes were, suddenly seemed very far away. He scanned the floor for any sign of his pyjamas.  
  
"What on earth happened to you?" she gasped in shock as she woke up enough to take in the rope burns on his wrists and the bites and bruises all over his thighs, stomach and chest.  
  
"Er..." Harry covered his privates with his hands, he really wished he weren't suddenly hard enough to drive nails through wood. "I'm... uh... going to go back to the bathroom now," he stuttered and ran for it leaving Hermione staring after him in complete shock.  
  
A moment later she was banging on the bathroom door. "Harry?" she called. "Harry, open the door. Whatever happened we can talk about it? Everything's going to be all right."  
  
"Oh, no," moaned Harry to himself. "Hermione, go away! It's not what you think," he told her through the door.  
  
"Harry, I'm going to go wake Ron now. I'm so sorry. We won't let him hurt you any more, you don't need to be afraid."  
  
_"Fuck!"_ Harry grabbed his robes and pulled them on then ran out the bathroom to stop her. "Hermione, no!" When he got out she was already shaking Ron awake. "I told you, it's not what you think."  
  
Ron sat up blearily, "'m awake."  
  
"Hermione I'm fine, I swear."  
  
Hermione had that sympathetic, worried, understanding look on again. "Harry, I know you find it hard to talk about personal things," she said carefully. "But I saw the bruises, you don't have to pretend."  
  
"Look," said Harry, trying to stay calm. "I know I said you were wrong before about the gay thing, and you were right, but this is different. I'm not in denial. I know what it looks like but everything's fine."  
  
"What's going on?" asked Ron.  
  
"You were right," Hermione told him. "Malfoy's been hurting Harry. I should have listened to you..."  
  
"He has not!"  
  
"What did he do?" Ron came to his feet. "I'll knock his head off."  
  
"It's nothing!"  
  
"What's with all the yelling?" Draco stuck his head through the curtains looking sleepy.  
  
Ron immediately grabbed him by the ears and hauled him off the bed. "You evil little bastard, what did you do to him!"  
  
Draco fell onto the floor, completely starkers, clutching his wand in one hand. "Get off me," he protested in surprise.  
  
Harry strode forward and put himself between Ron and Draco. "Stop it, Ron!"  
  
"You don't have to protect him, Harry," said Hermione. "You deserve better than this." It sounded rather like she'd read the leaflets on abusive relationships as well as the ones on homosexuality.  
  
"I'm protecting him because he hasn't done anything wrong!" Harry yelled in irritation. "I'm a little bruised, it's nothing."  
  
"It's not nothing," said Hermione.  
  
Ron caught hold of the arm Harry was using to keep him away from Draco. "Bloody hell, these look like rope marks," he exclaimed.  
  
Harry went red from more than anger. "That's because they are," he muttered. "Now let go and back off, okay."  
  
"You're not telling me he... and you... and you let him?"  
  
"I asked him to," said Harry, thoroughly humiliated and not being helped by the fact that his dick seemed to find all of this very exciting. "Not that it's any of your business."  
  
"I don't understand," said Hermione.  
  
Ron stepped back looking very embarrassed. "Hermione, I think you may have over-reacted."  
  
"What do you mean, he's covered in bruises," Hermione protested. "Harry, show him."  
  
Harry folded his robes tighter around his body. "Ron, will you get her to back off."  
  
Ron was eyeing him in a mixture of disgust at who he had been messing about with and curiosity as to exactly what they'd been doing and whether it had been fun. "I'll talk to her," he said finally. He turned and hauled Hermione into the far corner by her arm.  
  
Harry turned around in exhaustion. "Bugger," he said softly.  
  
Draco looked at him in bemused silence.  
  
"Sorry about that," Harry told him.  
  
Draco shook his head. "I can think of less stressful ways to wake up, that's for sure." He reached out and ran his hand down Harry's chest. "I need a shower and so do you."  
  
Harry smiled. "Shall we go lock ourselves in the bathroom for a while?"  
  
"Good plan. Let Weasley explain the birds and bees to Granger, it might take a while."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and led Draco into the bathroom.  
  
When they came back out, both fully dressed and with Harry's wrists healed (though he had insisted on keeping the rest of his marks for the time being), Hermione was sitting in one of the armchairs reading a book. When she saw them she flushed red and looked away.  
  
"Everything all right now?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah," said Ron giving Draco the evil eye. "And I'm dying to use the bathroom, you took your time." He got up and disappeared into the bathroom.  
  
"Sorry," Harry called after him. He walked over to his bed.

"Take the charm off will you, Draco. I left my wand on the bed."  
  
Draco cocked his eyebrow at Harry's carelessness and Harry smiled at him. He shook his head, "Fine. Finite Incantatum." He pulled the curtains open and the two of them looked down at the disaster they'd left in their wake. The whole bed stunk of sex and the sheets were a wreck.  
  
Harry sighed and began to strip the covers aside looking for his wand and their pyjamas, once he'd found them he turned back to Draco, "Give me a hand with this." The two of them remade the bed and then sat down. Harry was starting to remember what had got him so distracted this morning. "Do you think it's started yet?" he asked Draco quietly.  
  
"Don't know."  
  
Harry reached over and took Draco's hand.  
  
Ron came back out of the bathroom and scowled at them, but said nothing.  
  
Harry had a sudden thought. "Did you tell anyone where you were going?"  
  
"Course not," answered Ron.  
  
Harry looked at them in horror. "You moron, there's going to be a pitched battle up there. If you're missing they'll think you've been kidnapped or killed. Didn't you even leave a note?"  
  
"I did," said Hermione suddenly.  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and forgave her slightly for this morning's little melodrama.  
  
"I left a note on my bed, I just said Ron and I were with you and that we were safe. I figured that would tell them what they needed to know without telling them anything they shouldn't."  
  
Harry nodded. "Good, that's good."  
  
"I'm... sorry about earlier," she said in a subdued tone.  
  
"I'm not sure it's me you should apologise to," Harry found himself saying.  
  
"Oh... um... " Hermione looked at Draco. "I'm... sorry. I jumped to the wrong conclusion."  
  
Draco just nodded awkwardly. "Forget it," he said.  
  
Hermione nodded too then got up to take her turn in the bathroom.  
  
Once she was gone Harry turned to Ron. "So..." he began conversationally. "You and Hermione looked pretty cosy before all hell broke loose."  
  
Ron blushed. "We were just sleeping," he muttered.  
  
Harry grinned. "Sure you were. So, did you kiss her?"  
  
Ron couldn't help but grin a bit too. "Maybe," he answered coyly.  
  
Draco made a derisive noise. "Bet she had to kiss you first."  
  
Ron ducked his head in embarrassment at the truth of Draco's statement. "Did not."  
  
Harry laughed. "She did too, didn't she?"  
  
"Shut up. At least I didn't spend the night doing unspeakably disgusting things with a Slytherin."  
  
"Bet I had more fun than you did," Harry told him smugly, refusing to be embarrassed in front of Ron now that the whole gay thing was way out there. After all they'd watched each other jack off, what was there to be embarrassed about really?  
  
Ron shook his head. "How did you go from Harry the prude to Harry the slut so fast?"  
  
"I was just wondering how you went from the Ron who couldn't get enough of Seamus to the Ron who couldn't get any out of Hermione," Harry retorted with amusement.  
  
"Harry!" Ron gave a complicated gesture that seemed to mean 'don't talk about what we do in the privacy of our dorm room in front of Malfoy'.  
  
"I've already heard about what you get up to and to be honest I'm really not interested in who you mess about with as long as it's not Harry," said Draco. "Although I suppose I ought to thank you for teaching him that useful little lubrication charm. It was much appreciated."  
  
Ron made a face and was about to reply when Hermione came back out the bathroom and he promptly shut his mouth again.  
  
"I'm starving," said Harry, partly to break the silence and partly cause he had suddenly realised he was starving. "What's for breakfast?"  
  
They passed the next couple of hours fairly amicably, eating and playing cards, the misunderstanding earlier seemed to have released some of the tension between the two couples. Ron and Draco still sniped at each other but it seemed more out of habit than anything and although Ron cast dark looks at them when Harry, and it was invariably Harry, made physical contact with Draco he didn't pass comment. However as time passed things grew strained, conversation was stilted, Harry was visibly worried and Draco had retired to the bed to be nervous in peace. Eventually Harry threw down his cards in mid hand and stalked over to the bed as well. He lay down with his head pillowed on Draco's stomach and his knees curled up and they simply rested there holding hands in silence, Draco running his fingers through Harry's hair and staring over at the sealed door. The two boys tension rubbed off on Ron and Hermione and they too found themselves unable to concentrate on anything, finally they just sat together in one of the armchairs. Watching. Waiting.  
  
When something finally happened they were all so surprised that it took them precious moments to react. One moment the room was still, the next moment there was a tall, slim man in a black cloak and white Death Eater mask standing among them. Before any of them even raised a wand he bellowed, "Stupefy."  
  
Then everything went black.


	15. Chapter 15

  
**The Marks We Bear Ch15**  
**Saturday 11th Oct cont.**  
  
When Draco regained consciousness he thought for a moment he was still exactly where he had been and he had just dropped off to sleep and dreamt they had been attacked. He only needed to open his eyes to know he was wrong. The room around him was familiar, too familiar... it was his bedroom in Malfoy Mansion. He sat up with a jerk, taking in his surroundings. He was alone and a quick search of his robes and the immediate area confirmed his suspicion that his wand had been taken from him. He sat on the bed feeling his body slowly flooding with fear. They knew... they knew he had betrayed them.  
  
He stood up on shaking legs and stumbled to the door even though he knew it would be locked, it was as was the window and both had charms on them to prevent force from breaking them open.  
  
He sank down on to the floor. It had all been for nothing. He had betrayed Voldemort and things were no better than they would be had he just done as he was told, in fact they were worse because now he was a traitor... and he knew what Voldemort did to traitors.  
  
He was overcome with anger at Professor Snape and Dumbledore, he had listened to them and here he was exactly where they said he never had to be again. It was their fault, their fault for persuading him to talk, and he bet Snape had made sure he wasn't in any trouble. Traitorous, two-faced bastard!  
  
He was wedged against the bottom of the bed with his hands tight around his knees when the door opened and in stepped the one man he had prayed to Gods he wasn't even sure existed to never see again. Lord Voldemort.  
  
Draco froze, staring at the silent man who stood just inside the doorway watching him.  
  
"Draco," he hissed finally. "Stand up."  
  
Trembling, Draco pulled himself to his feet.  
  
Voldemort stepped forward and caught his chin in his cold hand, tilting his head up roughly so that he had to stand on tip-toe. He searched Draco's face. "You have failed me, Draco. Do you have nothing to say?"  
  
"I... I.... no," Draco whispered.  
  
"No protestations, no excuses?"  
  
Too scared to think Draco babbled the first thing that came to mind. "I was... afraid."  
  
Voldemort softened his grasp a little, letting him stand more comfortable. He smiled a taut, hard smile. "Afraid... and were you not afraid of what I might do if you betrayed me?"  
  
"I... yes.... I tried not to but they... " words failed him.  
  
Voldemort released him completely and stalked away to stare out of the window, Draco fell back against the bed. "Your failure was not unexpected," he said conversationally. "Lucius was convinced you would be an excellent addition to the cause, but he is blinded by a father's pride. I am not so easily fooled, I know the transient nature of a fifteen year old boy. There was no real attack planned, it was a test... of you and of other things." He turned back to Draco. "Despite failing that test you are lucky... as am I. Perhaps you are my good luck charm." He gave Draco what he probably imagined was a pleasant smile. "You have accidentally given me the one thing I wanted most of all... Harry Potter."  
  
Draco's blood ran cold.  
  
"For that gift and as a favour to your father I have decided to spare your life. Or perhaps it is just that you are too pleasing to me to destroy." Voldemort walked slowly back to him and caressed his cheek. "But of course you must still be punished. You do understand, don't you?"  
  
Draco nodded tightly, not trusting his voice.  
  
Voldemort drew his wand from inside his robes and began to stroke his face with it, finally he held it still with it's tip pressed directly into the centre of Draco's forehead. In a dark whisper he said, "Crucio."  
  
Pain shot through Draco's body as he had never experienced before and he was barely aware of Voldemort holding him in place. He burned, he was sure he must be on fire, he could feel his skin crack and his fluids boil. He was in hell, surely, eternal damnation and punishment and it would never ever end...  
  
And then it did and he would have slumped to the ground had Voldemort not caught him. He felt the familiar and hated hands again stroking his face and hair. "Ah, Draco," Voldemort sighed. "You are even beautiful when you cry out in pain. I wonder if your father was ever so captivating as a boy. I should have kept you here with me instead of sending you away to have your thoughts addled by those muggle-lovers at Hogwarts." Cold thin lips descended to press against his forehead and then his cheeks and finally his lips.  
  
Draco forced himself to remain submissive, neither refusing nor encouraging, hyper-aware that his life was still not assured. He had seen Voldemort forgive and then spin around at an incorrect word or look and kill without a moment's hesitation. _"This is who I am,"_ he told himself. _"This is where I am meant to be, I can't escape fate. No matter how far I run I will always end up back here. There's no point in fighting it."_ But further down he could hear himself crying Harry's name and over and over again, _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."_  
  
There was a hesitant knock at the door and Voldemort released him. "Enter."  
  
His father came through the door looking pale and worried, when he caught sight of Draco he was visibly relieved. "My Lord, the prisoners are safely locked away. Have... have you..."  
  
"I have spoken to your traitorous son, Lucius," Voldemort told him. "And as I said before, I shall spare him for now... after all he has done me a great service albeit unknowing. You said there were four of them, can you identify the two other children?"  
  
"The third boy looked to be part of that Muggle-lover Weasley's brood, I didn't recognise the girl. Perhaps Draco..."  
  
They looked at him. "Her name is Hermione Granger," Draco said softly.  
  
"I remember her from my time sharing a body with Quirrel," said Voldemort. "Irritating little mudblood. I shall go and visit with our guests and let you speak with your son. Perhaps later, as an apology and a welcome back to the fold, he can kill the mudblood girl for us." Voldemort left them alone together and as he departed Draco let himself drop onto the bed.  
  
"Will you punish me too, father?" he asked in a resigned tone.  
  
"Draco," his father crossed the room to him and sat down on the bed too. "What were you thinking? I saw you there with Potter, I didn't tell him exactly how I found you." His voice was strained but didn't sound angry. "I was so ... I thought he would kill you." He let his head fall into his hands. "I thought he would kill you," he repeated.  
  
Draco looked at his father in amazement. "I thought..." he said haltingly. "I didn't think you would care if he did."  
  
His father looked up at him. "You're my only child! Draco, how could I not care?" He almost reached out to him but Draco saw him draw back before he could make contact. "Tell me what happened."  
  
Draco looked down at the carpet, confused by a sense of comfort from his father that he was unused to. He remembered something Snape had said... that he was surprised Lucius had allowed Voldemort to touch Draco. Had he been wrong about his father? "I... I wanted to make you proud. I really did," he said softly. "But I don't want the same things you want."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Draco looked at his father. "I don't want to be a part of this," he said intensely. "I don't want to fight against you, I just didn't know what else to do. I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't do what you asked and they said they could protect me."  
  
"But Draco, if you had just obeyed there would be no need for protection."  
  
Draco swallowed and looked away. "Voldemort... he... I'm afraid of him. Not just of what he might do if I disobey him but... what he might... want from me if I join with him."  
  
"But I thought you wanted to fight beside us, I thought you believed in the cause."  
  
"I did... I did until it came to actually doing anything about it. But I wasn't... I wasn't talking about the fight. Though I don't want to be a part of that either. I meant... he... he touches me and I don't like it." Draco flushed darkly and refused to meet his father's eye. "I know you and he have an... arrangement... but I don't want that. Not with him."  
  
His father simply stared at him until Draco forced himself to glance up at him. Finally he found his voice. "He... touches you?" his father asked hoarsely.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
"You never said anything."  
  
"I thought you wouldn't care. I was... I was afraid you'd be proud that he liked me so much."  
  
"What have I done?" Lucius muttered. "That my own son would think..." He stood up and moved away to lean against the wall, hiding his face. "Draco..."  
  
"I need to leave here, Father," Draco pleaded. "I can't stay here."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. I can talk to him, make him stop."  
  
"Father, he won't listen to you."  
  
"He listened to me when I asked him to spare you," his father protested.  
  
"That's not what he said to me!"  
  
Lucius turned to him. "What did he say to you?"  
  
"He said it was because I brought him Harry and because... because I pleased him. He said... he said I was beautiful when I was in pain. I can't stay here, please! You have to help me, we can make it look like I escaped on my own."  
  
"Draco... I can't..."  
  
"Please, you said you cared. If you really do then let me go. I won't fight against you or him, I swear. I'll stay out of it. Just let me go."  
  
"I don't know..."  
  
"Where's my wand, do you have it?" He saw his father touch his pocket. "You could say I stole it from your pocket while we were talking."  
  
"Draco, it won't work. Don't you realise... I apparated straight to your location past every ward that was set around the room you were in."  
  
Draco stared at him, thinking back to the sudden appearance of the Death Eater in their safe haven. "That was you? But how?"  
  
"Yes, that was me. I was the only person who could have done it. Voldemort created a spell before you left for school, a blood link transportation spell. No matter where you were I could apparate directly to you, it only works on close blood relatives. No matter where you were he could send me straight to you... and he would."  
  
"There must be a counter-spell. How does it work?"  
  
"We used a potion to activate the link," said Lucius. "We gave it to you before you left for school. I helped him develop it and the antidote. But if you took it he would know I had given it to you."  
  
Draco's mind was buzzing. "No... not if we set it up right. There's no harm in you having told me how you got into the school if you say I asked. Then I steal my wand from your pocket and use it to break into your office, if you leave just enough information in your desk for me to locate the antidote. It won't be your fault. I can take the antidote and apparate out of here."  
  
"Draco, you ask too much. I can't betray him."  
  
Draco became more desperate as the possibility of escape seemed so close. "If you don't help me I'll... I'll die before I stay here with him. I swear I will. I'll kill myself."  
  
"Draco! Don't say that. Perhaps... I could arrange for you to visit relatives, get away for a while..."  
  
"You don't understand!" Draco broke in. "You didn't see the way he looked at me before you came in. Go and speak to him if you don't believe me. Suggest sending me away and see what he thinks. Or better... ask him what he wants with me... "  
  
"Draco, that is enough. Enough! We are not discussing this, we can't. I'll... make sure he doesn't touch you again. I have to go now." With that he left, taking Draco's wand and his hopes of escape along with him.  
  
Lucius strode nervously down the hallway to his private office and dropped into the chair by his desk. Once there he lowered his head into his hands and tried to pull himself together, he was shaking he noted distractedly. Tom and Draco? The more he thought about it the more he remembered little signs that he had previously ignored. He had been so wrapped up in their plans for the future, in the fight, in the pleasure of regaining his trusted place. He had ignored his lover's occasional jibes that Lucius was not as young and appealing as when they had last been together. Ignored Tom's intense interest in Draco and the fact that Draco had started spending so much time out of the house. That he had been avoiding Tom was clear in retrospect.  
  
He had to get Draco out of the house, surely he could persuade Tom to agree to sending him away. After his betrayal it made sense not to keep him here where he would be privy to sensitive information.  
  
Lucius got up and made his way down to the dungeon levels to find Lord Voldemort.  
  
When he got down there Voldemort was torturing the mudblood girl, he turned as Lucius entered and ended the spell. "Lucius, did things go well with Draco?"  
  
"Fine, fine," Lucius muttered nervously, he glanced around the room at the captive children. "I... wanted to talk to you about him, if you're not too busy."  
  
"Not at all, I always have time for Draco." Voldemort tucked his wand into his robes and followed Lucius out of the room.  
  
Once they were in private Lucius continued, "I was wondering what you... intended for him. I thought perhaps I could send him to relatives in France..."  
  
"I wouldn't hear of it," Voldemort broke in. "Draco made a mistake, he was led astray by those who oppose us. The best place for him is right here where we may keep an eye on him. In fact I thought I might give him a little job."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"I could do with a personal assistant, someone to run errands for me. Working close to me will remind Draco of his place and of where his loyalties lie, don't you think?"  
  
"I... I'm not... are you sure? I really think..."  
  
"I am quite decided Lucius, I'm sure it will do Draco the power of good. Now I really am quite busy, I will see you at dinner and later we shall have Draco kill the mudblood. You may have the Weasley boy if you like, I know you have a personal dislike of his family. I'm quite looking forward to the look on Potter's face when we kill his dearest friends. Better than Cruciatus when it comes to him, just like his father." With that Voldemort swept off leaving Lucius to fall back against the cold stone walls and run a shaking hand through his hair.  
  
He stood there for a long time then strode out of the dungeons and back up to his office. With trembling hands he rifled through his papers looking for the parchments on the spell he and Voldemort had created. Trying not to think too hard about what he was doing he laid the papers casually on his desk and then looked through his pockets for the key to his potion closet, he pulled out the four wands he had taken from the children and then the key which had been stuck in a seam. He put Draco's wand back in his pocket and sat the other three wands on a shelf before going to unlock the closet and pulling out the antidote Draco would need. He looked around his office and then put it back in the front of the closet with the label showing clearly. Leaving it out would be too obvious, he could say Draco had picked the key from his pocket at the same time as he had stolen his wand. Taking a last look over his office he hurried to Draco's room.  
  
Draco started when he came through the door. "Father?"  
  
Lucius thrust Draco's wand into his hands. "Here, take it and this key too. It's for the potions closet in my office. I'll say you stole them both out my pocket. When I leave go straight to my office and take the antidote then apparate as far away as you can think of. The antidote is clearly marked and at the front, it's in a small blue bottle. Don't go back to Hogwarts, or to any of your relatives. Perhaps you could try and get to Beaubaxtons. I don't know."  
  
"But I thought..." said Draco, bewildered.  
  
"Just promise me you'll stay out of the fight. Promise me."  
  
"Of course... I promise. Father..."  
  
"Just go, Draco. I'm so sorry. Just go."  
  
Then Lucius was gone again, leaving Draco standing there numbly looking at his wand and the small silver key in his hands.  
  
It took several long minutes for Draco to take in what had just happened. He looked up at the door and back at his wand. He raised it and removed the simple charms that had seemed so impervious when he been wandless. Then he made his way carefully to his father's study.  
  
There he quickly retrieved the antidote and swallowed the entire bottle just to be sure. He looked over his father's office one last time as he tried to calm himself for the apparating, he had only learnt how to do it this summer and still found it tricky, as well as figure out where he was going to go. Then he froze, his eyes fixed on the shelf behind his father's desk. Three wands lay there, one of which he would recognise anywhere. It was Harry's wand.  
  
Almost by themselves his legs carried him over to the shelf and he reached out to touch the wand. Immediately he felt the faint buzz of energy run up his arm. Harry... could he feel it too? He picked up the wand, struck with an intense yearning. If he left now he would never see Harry again... and more than that, Voldemort would kill him and it would be his fault. He had led them straight to Harry, if he had left Harry alone instead of chasing after him he would never have been there and his father could never have entered the safe room.  
  
But what could he do and where was there to go anyway? Voldemort had reached him once past all of Dumbledore's protection and who would believe that he hadn't been a willing part of Harry's capture. Both sides would be against him if he left and he would be completely alone.

\--  
  
Lucius spent the next hour in clear view of people he knew Voldemort trusted, trying not to look nervous. He was already regretting his rash behaviour, allowing his emotions to overcome his judgement. But it was too late now, Draco would be long gone and he would simply have to play the hand he had dealt himself. As he sat down to dinner opposite Tom he put his actions out of his mind, he knew the best way to lie convincingly was to believe what you said as much as possible.  
  
Voldemort gestured to the servant by the door. "Fetch Draco from his room and have a place set for him," he ordered. "There's no need for him to remain locked away."  
  
Lucius steeled himself for the coming uproar when Draco's room was found empty.  
  
Minutes past. Servants laid a place for Draco.  
  
Then the door opened and the man Voldemort had sent to fetch Draco re-entered the room... and behind him came Draco. Calm and poised.  
  
"Father. My Lord." He took his place at the table as Lucius stared at him in complete shock, something Voldemort thankfully missed as he was too busy watching Draco.  
  
"Draco," Voldemort practically purred. "Your father and I have some good news for you."  
  
Draco looked up at him politely. "You have been so forgiving to me already, My Lord," he said. "I can't imagine there could possibly be more."  
  
"My dear boy, you did nothing but what I expected you would. What sort of man would I be if I held that against you? And after you have given me such a gift."  
  
Lucius schooled his features to indifference against the roiling in his gut at Voldemort's obvious attraction to his son. What was Draco doing? Had he changed his mind? Lucius was stabbed with a sudden fear... had Draco played him to strengthen his own position with Voldemort? Did he plan to take Lucius place after revealing his father's betrayal? Surely not.  
  
"I'm only glad that my moment of weakness worked to your advantage," Draco replied. "I've hated Potter since the day I met him. I can't believe I let Dumbledore talk me into helping him."  
  
"No harm done, Draco. Everyone is allowed one mistake."  
  
Lucius smothered a snort of derision. Voldemort was not known for his acceptance of even one tiny mistake by his followers. He had undergone days of torture as payment for his failure to help Voldemort back to power before he had regained his body. Although he was sure much of it had been due more to Tom's enjoyment of inflicting pain than any real desire for revenge.  
  
"But I still haven't told you the good news, I've decided to give you a little job. Something to keep you occupied until you regain my trust enough to be given back your wand. How would you like to be my personal assistant?"  
  
Lucius saw something indefinable pass across Draco's face before he answered. "I would be honoured, my Lord."  
  
"Excellent," said Lord Voldemort with relish. "Your father seemed to think you would be better sent away but I wouldn't hear of it."  
  
Draco's gaze flickered to his father. "Thank you," he said to Voldemort. "I won't fail you again."  
  
Voldemort actually reached out and lightly touched the back of Draco's hand. "I'm quite sure of that."  
  
The rest of dinner passed in relative silence. As they finished up Voldemort spoke again, "We will dispose of the two extra children this evening, do you feel up to joining us Draco? I had hoped you would kill the girl for me, I don't like to think that you may have lost your passion for the cause. Can you kill your would-be friends?"  
  
"Granger's no friend of mine," Draco replied. "She's dogged my every step at school, the teachers constantly favour her over me just because she's a Gryffindor! It would be my pleasure to be rid of her. But won't I need a wand?"  
  
"There are other ways to kill a person... but I shall let you use your wand. Your father has it, he will return it to you later under my close supervision."  
  
"I look forward to it."  
  
"Then I shall see you in the dungeons in an hour, Draco. Lucius." Voldemort left the room.  
  
Lucius glanced around the room nervously, as if expecting people to be lurking in the shadows. "Draco," he said. "I ... wasn't expecting to see you for dinner..." he let the question itself remain unspoken.  
  
"I realised my place was here, Father," Draco replied. "With my family."  
  
"You are... sure?"  
  
"I was over-wrought when we spoke before." Draco too glanced around to be sure they were alone. "At the last moment I realised I didn't want to leave. I was being childish, I'd never felt the Cruciatus curse before and it threw me off balance. You must forgive anything I said, I put you in a very difficult position and I'm sorry. Please don't tell him what happened, I really didn't mean it."  
  
"You didn't mean it? But what about... Draco, I saw the way he was looking at you."  
  
"It's all right, Father. I'm not a child, I should be proud that Lord Voldemort wants me to work so closely with him. I was just letting my emotions over-rule my common sense, you always told me to be careful of that and you were right. I nearly made a terrible mistake."  
  
Despite his unease Lucius felt a certain relief that his betrayal would come to nothing. "I'm... glad to hear that. I only want you to be happy, Draco. To live up to your potential."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You better give me your wand back, do you have it?"  
  
Draco paused and then drew his wand out of his sleeve. "I suppose you're right, it's hard to give it up again though."  
  
"You'll have it back tonight and I'm sure it won't be long before Lord Voldemort returns it on a permanent basis."  
  
"I hope so. I'm going back to my room if I have your permission?"  
  
"Of course. I will come for you in an hour."  
  
"Thank you." Draco left the table.  
  
Harry knelt painfully on the floor, his knees and feet were frozen by hours pressed against the cold stone. His robes had been taken from him before he was chained in place by his wrists and ankles and he now wore only his vest and underpants.  
  
Chained to the wall opposite him were Ron and Hermione, hanging limply by their arms. They still had their robes but had been tortured unmercifully by Voldemort as he berated Harry for his very existence. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that Harry would prefer to be tortured himself than see his friends hurt.  
  
He stared down at his manacled wrists, remembering the last time he had been bound. He wondered, not for the first time, how he could enjoy it when it was Draco despite the fact that he had so many unpleasant experiences of being restrained... and now he had one more to add to the list. There really wasn't any comparison. He wondered where Draco was, Voldemort had mentioned him earlier but it had been so brief he had no way to tell what they had done with him. He was glad that he wasn't chained with them here, he didn't want to watch Draco being tortured, but he was worried. They must know he had betrayed them. Would they kill him? He thought he could feel the familiar buzz still, it had started a couple of hours ago, the feeling that Draco had his wand. Like a faint itch. But it could just be his imagination.  
  
The door opened and Voldemort was back again. Harry closed his eyes and tried to find some hope, some glimmer of a plan, anything...  
  
"Good evening, Harry," Voldemort smiled coldly.  
  
Harry refused to look up at him.  
  
"Nothing to say? Never mind, I'm sure you'll think of something when we kill your friends."  
  
Harry's head shot up at that and he stared in horror at the smiling face above him.  
  
"You're going to die as well, of course. But them first, don't you think?"  
  
"You can't," Harry begged. "It's me you want, you don't care about them."  
  
"You're right, but I'm going to kill them anyway."  
  
Harry could see Ron and Hermione watching them, there were tears on Hermione's cheeks but neither of them spoke.  
  
Then the door opened again and they all turned to see Lucius enter and behind him was Draco. Unbound and unmarred. He glanced over them with no visible emotion.  
  
"Lucius, Draco. I was just telling Harry tonight's plans. Come over here, Draco, and say hello to Harry."  
  
Draco walked over to Voldemort's side and looked down at Harry, his eyes were hard and empty, no matter how deeply Harry searched for any sign of what he was thinking or feeling. "Potter," he said coldly. "I told you Voldemort was more powerful than Dumbledore. You should have listened to me."  
  
"You bastard," shouted Ron from the other side of the room. He was silenced by a swift backhand from Lucius.  
  
Draco stepped forward and crouched down in front of Harry. "Did you think I could be your friend?" He reached out and stroked Harry's cheek. "I've been forgiven but you could beg all night and Lord Voldemort would still kill you in the morning, because you're nothing and your friends are less than nothing," he hissed.  
  
As Draco lowered his hand his arm brushed against Harry's and he felt the surge of electricity through his body. Draco had his wand! It must be strapped to his arm, hidden under his robes, because the tip of it had brushed momentarily against Harry's skin. He stared into Draco's eyes and saw a brief lowering of the grey curtains, behind them was both fear and hope. But before Harry could react further Draco had stood up again and moved back to Voldemort's side.  
  
"May I have my wand back?" Draco asked Voldemort.  
  
"Of course, just for this evening." Voldemort turned to Draco's father. "Lucius."  
  
Lucius drew a wand out of his pocket and handed it to Draco.  
  
"Thank you." Draco walked over to Ron and Hermione and looked them over. "What a pathetic pair," he commented. "Killing them would practically be a mercy."  
  
Ron spat at him as he walked past but it fell short.  
  
He came back to Voldemort and Harry. "Before I kill the girl I was wondering..."  
  
"What is it, Draco?" Voldemort asked indulgently, reaching out one hand to brush a tendril of hair from his eyes.  
  
"May I torture Potter a little?" he asked hopefully. "I've dreamt about putting him under Cruciatus since I was eleven."  
  
Voldemort smiled. "I find you terribly hard to deny, Draco. Why not... enjoy yourself."  
  
Draco turned back to Harry, knelt down and reached out again with the arm his wand was strapped to. "Look up at me, Potter," he instructed, tipping his chin up. "I want to see your face. You're about to find out that the Disanimus curse isn't the only dark magic I know how to do."  
  
Harry stared into Draco's eyes, trying to understand what he intended, he could sense Draco's arm coming down out of sight of Voldemort. His wand brushed against his cuffed hand and as the power flashed through him the plan seemed to form in his mind at the same time. His eyes widened in understanding and they moved as one.  
  
Harry grasped the wand as Draco's arm jerked down, ripping it from it's bindings and bringing their hands together around it. At the same time he spun and brought his own wand down to their clasped hands and pointing both directly at Voldemort they shouted in tandem. "Disanimus!"  
  
The power ripped through them and struck Voldemort in the chest, knocking him to the floor.  
  
Draco immediately spun back to Harry and used his wand to remove the manacles, handing him Ron and Hermione's wands. "Get Ron and Hermione down," he said urgently as he spun back to face his father.  
  
"Draco?" Lucius gasped in shock.  
  
"I'm sorry," Draco began.  
  
"You promised me, you promised you wouldn't fight against us."  
  
"I couldn't leave them here. I couldn't leave without Harry."  
  
"You would choose Potter over me?"  
  
"You were going to kill him!"  
  
"He's the enemy. What have you done?!" Lucius looked down at the still form of Voldemort.  
  
"I'm going to leave now, I'll try and stay out of things. I swear. But I couldn't let you kill them... You could... you could come with us..."  
  
"Where? To Hogwarts? To Dumbledore?" his father spat. "I don't think so."  
  
"I understand... you can still use the same story though, just say I stole Harry's wand. Say it was in your pocket, he'll be angry but he'll get over it. I know you can explain it somehow..."  
  
"Draco, I can't let you do this..." Lucius wand swept up.  
  
"Stupefy!" shouted someone from the other side of the room.  
  
Lucius slumped to the floor, his wand clattering away into the corner.  
  
Draco turned to see Ron staring at Lucius with his wand outstretched. Harry was halfway through helping Hermione down, staring over his shoulder at them. Ron looked at Draco a moment then went to help Hermione.  
  
Draco stared down at his unconscious father. After a moment he stepped forward and moved him into a more comfortable position. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am." He straightened up. "We need to get out of here, can any of you apparate?"  
  
They shook their heads.  
  
"Damn," Draco opened the door and stuck his head out. "We need to get to a fireplace, I stole some Floo Powder from my father's office just in case. Come on, we need to get out of the dungeons first." He began to lead them up the stairs. "If it looks like we're about to get caught we'll have to try and apparate. I know how to and I think I can carry one other person normally. If we use the double wand thing again it might work."  
  
"It sounds risky," said Harry.  
  
"It will be, that's why it's plan B. Granger you'll grab me, Weasley grab Harry. Harry give me your hand now with your wand." Harry and Draco wrapped their hands together around both their wands. "If we're stuck we'll try it. For the time being just follow me and stay quiet."  
  
Draco led them up the stairs and stunned the guard at the top, then they crept along to the nearest room Draco knew had a fireplace. It was thankfully empty and he quickly lit a fire.  
  
"Where are we going?" asked Harry.  
  
"I don't know," said Draco. "We can't floo into Hogwarts."  
  
"My house," said Ron. "The Burrow."  
  
"Do it," said Harry.  
  
Draco threw the floo powder into the fire and he and Harry leapt into it, still holding hands. "The Burrow," Harry shouted.  



	16. Chapter 16

  
**The Marks We Bear Ch16**  
 **Saturday 11th Oct cont.**  
  
They stumbled out of the fireplace into a warmly lit living room full of bashed but comfy looking old furniture. Draco stood in the middle of the room and stared around him then slowly dropped to his knees, the only thing holding his wand was Harry's grip on his own limp hand.  
  
"Draco? Are you okay?" Harry asked with concern.  
  
"No," said Draco. "No, I don't think I am."  
  
Harry crouched down in front of him. "He didn't hurt you? He didn't...."  
  
Behind them Ron and Hermione stumbled out the fire and immediately went to find Ron's parents.  
  
Draco looked at Harry with a dazed expression. "What?"  
  
"Voldemort, did he... hurt you?" Harry cradled his cheek.  
  
"Voldemort? Oh, Gods.... what have I done?"  
  
"You saved us, Draco."  
  
Draco slumped further to the floor. "He'll be so angry with me," he gasped.  
  
Harry gathered Draco against his chest. "Your father?"  
  
Draco didn't answer and just then Mrs Weasley burst into the room.  
  
"Harry! Harry, goodness dear, are you all right?"  
  
Harry looked up. "I'm fine. I think Draco's in shock."  
  
"But what are you doing here? Hermione's in tears in the kitchen and Ron said you were through here. Where are your clothes?"  
  
"It's... a long story. Can you contact Dumbledore and tell him we're here? He'll be worried."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Mr Weasley came in behind her. "Harry," he said seriously. "Ron said you were attacked by Voldemort, is that true?"  
  
"Yes, that's right. Look, I don't mean to be short, but could you give me some time alone with Draco and maybe a blanket? I really need to talk to him."  
  
"Ron said he got you out," said Mr Weasley, he looked at Draco uncertainly.  
  
"If it hadn't been for Draco we'd all be dead," Harry told him sincerely.  
  
Mr Weasley looked unsure but Mrs Weasley nodded. "I'll bring you a blanket and some hot cocoa then and we'll send an owl to Hogwarts straight away." She pulled Mr Weasley out of the room with her and left the two boys alone.  
  
Harry turned his attention back to the semi-catatonic boy in his arms. "Draco?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can you stand up?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Cause my knees are killing me and if we could move to the sofa I'd really appreciate it," his words were light-hearted but his concern underlaid them.  
  
"I'm sorry," Draco whispered.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"It was my fault. I led them straight to you."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. I don't know how they got into the room but it wasn't your fault." Harry pulled him to his feet, groaning at the ache in his knees, and led him to the couch. "Whatever they said to you, whatever happened... just let it go. We're safe now."  
  
Draco let Harry draw him down onto the couch and felt Harry pull him back against his chest and wrap his arms around him. All he could see was Voldemort's prone body and his father standing behind it staring at him in shock and betrayal. "We'll never be safe," he told Harry.  
  
Harry sighed and hugged him. "You scared me for a minute you know," he said. "You looked so cold and distant. I thought maybe they had used Imperius until I felt my wand against your arm."  
  
"I didn't know what I was going to do until I did it," said Draco faintly. "I wasn't sure if there was anything I could do... I was going to run. I was going to run and leave you all behind until I saw your wand there on my father's shelf."  
  
"It's okay, Draco. In the end you did the right thing."  
  
Draco shook his head. "I hope he's all right."  
  
"Your father?"  
  
"He was so angry. I promised him I wouldn't fight against them if he would help me and I lied. Voldemort will be so angry that we got away... if he kills him..."  
  
"Your father made his choice as to which side he was on."  
  
"It will be my fault," Draco protested. "He tried to save me, I always thought he didn't care and he did. He tried to help me and I betrayed him."  
  
Mrs Weasley came back through with a blanket and two mugs of hot cocoa, she paused a moment at the two boys wrapped around one another on the couch then simply tucked the blanket over both of them and handed them the warm mugs. "Ron explained what happened," she told them. "Arthur's speaking to Professor Dumbledore now, do you want to speak to him?"  
  
"Not unless I have to," said Harry. "I'm really tired."  
  
Mrs Weasley nodded. "I already put Hermione to bed in Ginny's room, she was quite upset."  
  
Harry looked grim. "Voldemort ... she took the worst of it. I think he knew he could hurt us more by hurting her."  
  
A tear rolled down Mrs Weasley's cheek. "I'm just so glad you escaped," she sniffed. "I... Draco, I... thank you so much for getting them back." She wiped at her cheek and rushed out of the room.  
  
Harry sighed and sipped at his cocoa, tightening his other arm around Draco's chest. "It's going to be okay," he said softly.  
  
"You said that before."  
  
"And I was right, we got out and we're all still alive," Harry reminded him.  
  
"You said nobody would ever touch me again but you..."  
  
Harry's cup froze half-way to his lips. "He... Draco..."  
  
"I'm sorry... ignore that, I shouldn't have said anything."  
  
"No," Harry put his cup down and pulled Draco around to face him. "Tell me, did he...."  
  
"It was nothing," Draco said, looking away. "I just... I thought..."  
  
"What?"  
  
Draco looked into Harry's demanding eyes. "When he... kissed me... I thought I was never going to get away from him. I didn't fight him, I just let him touch me... I always just let him... I'm so sorry, Harry."  
  
Harry reached out and touched Draco's lips with trembling fingers. "You did what you had to do, if it had been me I probably would have fought him and then he'd have killed me and we'd all be dead. You're stronger than you think."  
  
"What if I hadn't figured out what to do, what if I'd just kept going along with them waiting to find a way out and it never appeared, what if he'd wanted more and I let him..."  
  
"Don't," said Harry. He took Draco's mug out of his hands and put it down on the floor. "No more what if's." He took Draco's face in his hands and kissed him gently. "We're safe."  
  
"For now."  
  
"That's good enough for me." Harry kissed him again. "Now finish your cocoa and we'll go to bed."  
  
The two boys settled back down and drank their cocoa in silence until Ron came through.  
  
"Dumbledore wants to talk to you for a minute, Harry," he said.  
  
"Damn," said Harry. He extricated himself from behind Draco, wrapped the blanket around him and stood up. "I was hoping he would wait till tomorrow. I want to go to bed."  
  
"Sorry," Ron sympathised, he looked exhausted. "I told Mum to put you in the twins room," he told them. "She wasn't sure about putting the two of you together but I talked her round."  
  
"Thanks. What did Dumbledore say?" Harry asked.  
  
"There was no attack on the school. He doesn't know how they got into the room but he's sending people straight over to Malfoy Mansion in the hopes they'll catch them unawares while Voldemort's still out for the count."  
  
"It won't work," said Draco. "The hex you used on my father won't last long, they'll be gone by the time anyone gets there."  
  
"Maybe," said Ron non-committally. "Dumbledore said we could stay here for a couple of days, but he wants to talk to you so you better go through, he's in the kitchen fire. I'll wait here for you." He sat down in one of the armchairs as Harry left the room.  
  
Harry pulled up a chair in front of the kitchen fire where Dumbledore's head hovered in the flames. "You wanted to talk to me, Professor?" he said.  
  
"It's good to see you in one piece, Harry. I know you're tired, but there were a few things I wanted to clarify."  
  
Harry nodded. "I understand."  
  
"Ron said that you and Draco knocked Voldemort out with a curse, he wasn't sure which one. Can you tell me exactly what happened?"  
  
Harry explained to him what had happened, at least as well as he understood it. He still wasn't sure how he had figured out what Draco intended or how the wands had worked together.  
  
Dumbledore listened carefully then asked Harry to tell him a little more about the unusual behaviour of their wands.  
  
Harry shrugged. "I don't know much about it, I had no idea we could use it to cast stronger spells until we did it. When we both touch our wands at the same time it's like a surge of energy. Hermione said..." Harry trailed off, he hadn't mentioned anything about his and Draco's relationship and as far as he knew neither had Ron. "She said she heard somewhere about people who were... compatible having compatible wands or something. But she thought it was just a folk tale."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "The magical energies that run through us sometimes resonate with those of another person, it's a powerful force and very rare. The compatibility of your wands is a side effect of that deeper resonance. You are very lucky, alone neither of you would be strong enough to hurt Voldemort."  
  
"But why do you think it happened and why didn't we ever notice it before?"  
  
"It is sheer coincidence, Harry. There may be many people who are magically compatible but it is rare for them to actually meet one another. It is as if you walked down the street and just happened to come face to face with your exact doppelgänger. Possible, but very improbable. And extremely fortunate, perhaps for all of us. The two of you could become a formidable weapon against Voldemort, you've already proven that."  
  
Harry sighed. "Great," he said unenthusiastically.  
  
Dumbledore seemed to understand his lack of excitement. "You've had a hard day, why don't you go and get some sleep and we shall talk some more tomorrow."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"How is Draco?"  
  
"He's... tired and upset. This wasn't easy on him, it wasn't easy on any of us."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sure a good night's rest will do you all some good. Sleep well, Harry."  
  
"Good night, Professor."

\---------------  
  
Lucius came to feeling vaguely worried but he couldn't quite remember why. He could feel cold stone under him and a flickering light played across his closed eyes which he opened slowly. His head hurt. Above him he could see the dark, damp stone of the dungeon ceiling. He pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked around, his gaze immediately fell upon the prone form of Voldemort and it all came flooding back.  
  
"Draco!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and casting about for his wand. "What have you done?"

\------------------  
  
Professor Dumbledore disappeared and Harry made his way back through to the living room where Ron and Draco were sitting in silence.  
  
When he arrived Ron yawned widely. "All done?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"I'm going to bed now," he said. "What about you two?"  
  
"I think we're ready for bed too," said Harry.  
  
"Are we safe here?" asked Draco. "Are they sending anyone out to watch things?"  
  
"Dumbledore said they'd send out a couple of Aurors," Ron answered. "But there's no reason for them to know where we are."  
  
"They found us before," said Harry with concern. He hadn't thought to discuss their current safety with Dumbledore.  
  
"That was my fault," said Draco.  
  
"What?" Ron started in surprise. "But..."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Harry gently.  
  
"It was a spell Voldemort and my father created, it meant my father could apparate to my location no matter where I was. They gave me a potion that activated it before I came to school. I had no idea until my father explained how he got past the wards on the safe room."  
  
"Then we're not safe," Ron started to panic. "He can find us..."  
  
"No," Draco broke in. "There was an antidote to the potion, the spell's been inactivated. My father..." he broke off, unable to continue.  
  
Harry sat down next to him and rubbed his arms to comfort him. "It's okay, you don't need to say any more tonight." He stood up again. "Come on, let's go to bed and sort everything out in the morning."  
  
With the blanket wrapped around him Harry led Draco up the stairs and into the twins room. He had never seen it this tidy before he thought idly, when the twins were home it was usually so messy you couldn't get through the door. Both the beds were made up and turned down but Harry led them both to the same one, propriety could wait... there was no way he was sleeping alone tonight just to avoid shocking Ron's parents.  
  
Ron paused in the door behind them and said goodnight. There was a strange camaraderie between them all that had never existed between Ron and Draco before and Harry wondered if the truce would last past this night or would wear off with the morning. Then Ron closed the door and Harry directed his full attention back to Draco.  
  
The other boy was trying to undo the fastenings at the neck of his robes but couldn't get his trembling fingers to open the clasp. Harry laid his wand next to Draco's on the nightstand and went to help him.  
  
"I can get it," Draco murmured.  
  
"I know," said Harry. "Let me do it anyway." He removed Draco's robes and threw them over a chair. "Do you really think they got away?" he asked.  
  
Draco nodded as he pulled off his under-shirt. "Ron's not powerful enough to put my father out for long and as soon as he woke up he'd get them to safety."  
  
Harry undressed himself mechanically. "You don't know where they'd go?"  
  
"My father's not that stupid, he wouldn't go anywhere I'd know about."  
  
"Then I guess that's it for now, nothing else we can do."  
  
"I think I've already done enough," Draco said bitterly. He sat down on the bed.  
  
Harry sat next to him. "I know you don't regret what you did, not really. So stop kicking yourself over it."  
  
Draco rolled away from him and climbed under the covers. "I betrayed my own father, Harry."  
  
"You did what you had to do."  
  
"I'm sick of doing what I have to do," Draco spat. "I want to be able to do what I want to do."  
  
Harry climbed in beside him, facing his tense back. "What did you want to do?"  
  
Draco sighed. "I don't know... I wanted to save you but everything else that happened.... I wish we'd never been there at all. I keep getting put into these places where I have to make choices I don't want to make. Do and see things I don't want to see. It's not fair."  
  
"I wonder what your basis for comparison is," Harry quipped.  
  
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Draco asked in irritation.  
  
"Sorry, it's a quote from a film I liked when I was a kid. I didn't mean to be flippant. It's just... I know what you mean. Life isn't fair, for any of us."  
  
"I'm upset, stop being so damn ... understanding!" Draco snapped, turning over and sitting up. "Can't you be more like you used to instead of being so fucking passive all the time, get mad at me! Get mad about something! You nearly died, your friends nearly died, you oblivious prat. You wander through your life telling me everything's going to be okay and it's not! It's not!!"  
  
Harry sat up in front of him looking inscrutable. "I'm quite aware of what nearly happened," he said quietly. "But if you think I'm going to throw some sort of temper tantrum and play into your delusions of ... whatever the hell it is you think you are. Well I'm not going to do it. What happened was not your fault and it wasn't my fault or Ron's fault or Hermione's fault. I know you feel bad about lying to your father but he chose his side, he wants me dead."  
  
"He's my father!"  
  
"You owe him nothing, Draco! Getting you out of that house was the very least he could do. How about making sure you never got put in that position in the first place? How about not helping, and for that fact screwing, the most evil man on the planet? Fuck him!"  
  
"I thought you weren't going to get angry," Draco sniped.  
  
"And fuck you too you self-destructive, insecure..." Harry trailed off. "I did say that didn't I."  
  
"Don't stop," said Draco. "You should blow off some steam."  
  
"I don't want to argue with you." Harry dropped back onto the bed and blew out a puff of air. "Ron's upstairs, I'm sure he could manage it if you're really desperate."  
  
Draco sighed. "I don't want to fight with Ron, I want to fight with you," he said with an air of defeat. "And I don't even want to fight with you, I just want..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"To feel happy that we got away."  
  
"You don't get that," Harry told him. "Relief, yes. Happy? You don't come out of situations like that happy, we're just lucky we came out of it at all. Now come here and lie back down."

\-------------------------  
  
Still dizzy from being knocked out and from hitting his head on the floor when he fell, Lucius cast a mobilicorpus spell on Voldemort and hurried upstairs. The dungeon levels were charmed against apparating in or out. When he reached the top of the stairs he paused with indecision. Should he sound the alarm, should he say goodbye to Narcissa... no, he couldn't risk it. He had no idea how long he had been out or where the children had gone, the Aurors could already be on their way. He gathered Voldemort close to him so he could apparate them away.  
  
"Damn you, Draco," he whispered. "Whatever happens to you now is out of my hands."  
  
Then they disappeared.

\----------------

Draco obediently crawled over to Harry's side and lay down with his head pillowed on Harry's chest. "I'm sorry for being an ass," he said after a moment.  
  
"You don't have to apologise. But... I'm sorry too."  
  
Draco propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Harry. "I do love you," he said.  
  
Harry smiled. "I love you too."  
  
THE END  
  
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story.


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